


Troubling Voices

by planningconquest



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Angst, Brother-Sister Relationships, Conscription, F/M, Family Feels, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, Luke Skywalker is not a Jedi, Non-Force Sensitive Luke Skywalker, Other, Spy-craft, Voice Acting, very elaborate plots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-09-08
Packaged: 2019-07-03 10:37:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 57,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15817191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/planningconquest/pseuds/planningconquest
Summary: A Non-Force Sensitive Luke Skywalker falls into spy-craft and voice acting. A duo that gets him in more trouble than he really wanted.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chrissyglikesbooks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chrissyglikesbooks/gifts).



The rebel agent didn’t look as much trouble as he had been to capture. Short, lean, and with delicate features should not have been able to beat the arresting stormtroopers nearly senseless. It had only been a lucky stun shot that had taken him down. 

Too bad that it meant that the rebels had slipped and fallen down a garbage chute and had to be fished out of a trash heap. The subsequent fall had broken an arm and heavily bruised his ribs. Still, the rebel was alive and at the moment chained to his bed in the med-bay.

“Do we have any identification for the rebel?” The arresting sergeant brushed a piece of muck off his armor. It slipped to the floor with a spine-crawling squelching noise. 

“None that I’ve been able to find,” a nurse surveyed the brown and pink mass on the previously pristine floor. “He only had a few credits on him. No ID and no chips. We’re running his codes through the database. I’ll alert anyone if anything comes up.” They blinked as the mass began to move. Inching along the floor and leaving a trail of oozing slime behind it. “Have you been checked out? That bruise looks pretty nasty.” 

“He clocked me a good one,” the trooper said. His muck-soaked glove reached up to prod the purpling bruise on his face. “Someone taught him to fight as well as we can.” 

“Better, it looks like.” Trooper and nurse glowered at each other. “So, what was he arrested for?” 

“Distributing anti-Imperial materials,” the trooper answered. “He’s one of the voice actors behind that little cartoon film “A Bridge Away.” 

“You’re kidding!” They turned to the rebel across the room. “That’s the voice actor! Which character?” 

“Erm,” the trooper swallowed and rocked back on his heels. “I think he’s.” He leaned closer. The nurse followed suit. “Classified.” 

“Oh, come on! Everyone has seen “A Bridge Away” It’s hilarious!” 

“It doesn’t matter if it’s funny! It was seditious!” 

“Yeah, but it was funny. Come on; the whole galaxy loved it.” 

“It was illegal, and it was seditious.”

“So, are our troopers and agents spending my tax credits on hunting down voice actors because it happened to twist a few panties?”

“When it’s seditious, yes.” 

“So which character is he? I want an autograph before they execute him.”

“I’m not saying,” the trooper answered. “I just had to arrest him. Don’t let him escape.” 

“I’m not about to let my patient escape,” the nurse scoffed. “Go see my associate on getting the bruise seen to.” 

“I will,” the trooper promised. He left and grinned as the nurse stomped on the strange animal, squashing it. 

 

#$#$#4

The small apartment door had been forced open; the door swinging open on its hinges. It looked like it was about to fall onto the street. Tables and couches had been turned over, and the curtains had been ripped from the windows. Cassian watched as a few ISB agents began to pick through the contents of the apartment. The neighbors of the apartment had already been arrested for questioning. There were agents questioning the shopkeepers nearby, and stormtroopers blocking off the streets. 

It was only because he was sitting in an apartment across the street and several stories higher that Cassian could see everything going on. 

“The fact that Luke has been arrested isn’t good for us.” He looked back at K2-SO. The droid shrugged. 

“We need to break him out,” Cassian answered. “How did he even get caught?” 

“I’m sure that I don’t know,” K2 said. “It may have something to do with that movie he helped make.”

“Movie?” Cassian turned from his binoculars. “What movie?”

“The animated movie he was in. Did you see it? “A Bridge Away.”” 

“Luke wasn’t in that?” 

“He was,” K2 said, “that’s why they arrested him.” 

“The movie wasn’t even a rebel move! The rebels weren’t involved in making that.”

“Luke may be a rebel agent,” K2 said, “but I know even rebels have side jobs.” His glowing eyes focused on Cassian, and his mechanical voice was pointed. 

“Why would Luke do anything like that? The movie was seen the galaxy over! He’s supposed to lay low!” 

“Aren’t all rebel agents supposed to lay low?” K2 didn’t have the ability to smile; but Cassian got the impression that if he could, then he would be. 

“You know what I mean, K2. We need to find out where he went.” 

“Do you want me to infiltrate the investigation?” K2 demanded. 

“Yes, and don’t pout. We need to find Luke and bust him out.” 

“Fine,” K2 stood, and the bed creaked as his weight was relieved. “I’ll call you when I find something.”

 

#$#$3

 

The supposed rebel didn’t look too threatening from where Kallus stood. On the other side of the observation window, the boy looked small and almost delicate. If it weren’t for the damage he’d done to the troopers who’d arrested him, Kallus would have discounted him immediately. 

“What do you think?” He blinked and turned to see an Imperial droid standing just a few feet behind him. The droid was operating oddly and seemed even more hunched over than the other droids. 

“Excuse me?” Kallus asked. He watched droid look from the boy and then to him. 

“What do you think of the rebel? He is a small human, isn’t he?” 

“I suppose,” Kallus glanced at the door, “you came rather quickly.” 

“I am only a droid,” the droid answered. Kallus felt the hair on the back of his neck prick up. “I come when I’m called.” 

“Right, now we’re only charging him with sedition right now. He’s a voice actor for that little-animated film that made the rounds a few weeks ago.” 

“A Bridge Away.” 

“Yes, we don’t have anything else on him, but considering how well he’s been fighting and the suspicious materials we’ve found in his apartment; I am confident he is connected to a rebel cell.” 

“He probably is,” the droid said dryly, and Kallus stared. “Are we going to talk to him?” 

“Yes, take notes and be quiet.” 

“Alright.” Again, Kallus felt unnerved by the droid’s attitude. He was almost sure that droids weren’t supposed to act like this.

“Let’s go,” the door slid open, and the blond in the bed stirred a bit. “Good evening,” Kallus checked his paperwork. “Mr. Smith.” 

“Good evening,” the rebels voice was quiet and pained. 

“I see they haven’t bothered with pain meds,” Kallus said, “a shame. You might get some later if you answer my questions.” 

“Questions?”

“Yes,” the Kallus stopped by the bed and looked down. He couldn’t have been over 16 or 17. His face was thin, and his jaw was square. Long blond hair that was usually tied back into a pony tail spread behind his head like a halo. “Are you old enough to hold an apartment in your own name, Mr. Smith.” 

“It isn’t in my name,” the boy said, “my uncle.” 

“Yes, your uncle.” Kallus didn’t see the way the blond looked up at the droid and winked. “A Mr. Smith who we can’t seem to contact.”

“He likes his privacy,” the blond winced as he moved enough to jostle his arm. He closed his eyes against the pain, and his face paled. “Are we done?” 

“No, rebel. We have successfully traced you as one of the parties responsible for that tacky little movie you were a part of” 

“Did you like it?” The blue eyes nearly sparkled with mischief. Kallus forced down a near instinctive laugh as he remembered his favorite section of the film. Instead, he coughed and shook his head as he tried not to chuckle.

“That is not why I am here.” 

“You did like it. I’m glad.” Not only had Kallus liked it, he’d loved it. He has saved several bootleg copies to enjoy at a later date. The film had become a cult classic nearly overnight. 

“You don’t seem to realize the mess that you are in, Mr. Smith. You are being charged with sedition and possibly treason. Further rebel ties are being investigated as we speak.” 

“Oh goodness, rebel ties? I couldn’t imagine getting mixed up with rebels.” 

“No, you have an illegally falsified ID and are a legal minor living alone and not attending school.” 

“School?” Now the rebel looked truly and utterly befuddled. 

“Truancy is a crime, young man.” 

“Truancy?”

“Let’s see, truancy, false documentation, squatting, all with a nice little treason to go atop the rebel cake. Like every other rebel I see, uneducated, an illegal immigrant with no job and no home, and you are fighting a government you don’t even understand. What a lovely little stereotype.”

The rebel blinked a few times and looked from Kallus to the droid. “Is he serious?” 

“What is your connection with the rebels?”

“What rebels?” 

“Don’t play stupid with me, Mr. Smith. You’ve helped produce a seditious piece of work that was produced by rebels. But leniency may be an option if you cooperate.” He stepped forward and placed a hand on the blond shoulders. It was a mockery of comfort, as the blond hissed in pain and groaned. His limb was set, and healing, but the bone was still freshly broken. 

“I don’t know who offered the money,” the blond said, straining beneath the pain. “They just asked by to do it for a lot of cash. I needed the money.”

“Really?” 

“I recorded the lines over a few weeks at a recording studio in the downtown area. I didn’t see anyone else involved. It was just droids.” 

“Droids?” 

“Just some protocol droids. I got the money from them too.” 

“How much did you get paid to do the film?” 

“Not enough,” the boy grumbled, “that was pure art.” Kallus refused to smile. “That’s all I know, honest.” 

Kallus watched the boy grimace and try to brave the pain. It was an admirable effort. “What else?” 

“What else is there? All I did was record the voice.” 

“And why did you put up such a fight?” 

“Wouldn’t you? I’ve had neighbors, and people just go missing when stormtroopers come arrest them. They never come back. You think I want to vanish into some Imperial black site? No, I don’t. I would have gotten away with it if it wasn’t for that stun blast.” 

“There are a few dozen stormtroopers nursing some sizable grudges. Not to mention you used your cookware in pretty inventive ways.” 

“I try.” 

“There is now a frying pan sized dent in someone’s armor.” 

“I have a broken arm,” Smith said, “I’m not sorry.” 

“Fine,” Kallus nodded to the droid beside. “Until we’ve finished questioning you, don’t move.” 

“I don’t think I’m going anywhere,” Smith answered, miserably yanking on the cuff that kept him attached to the bed. Kallus grinned and walked out. The droid followed a moment later. 

“Aren’t we going to ask where the recording studio is?” The droid asked. Kallus nodded. 

“There is only on recording studio downtown. It shouldn’t be too hard to find. Come along.” 

“Hold on,” Kallus turned and gagged the metal hand wrapped around his throat and lifted him from the floor. “I don’t think so.” Kallus scrambled at the hand at this throat as the droid pulled the agent's blaster from its holster and shot him in the chest. He was dropped the ground, unconscious and didn’t wake up until the nurses got his heart restarted. The droid, the prisoner, and all his information was gone. 

#$#$#$#4

“That could have ended poorly.” Cassian twirled around in his chair to watch K2 carry a pale-faced Luke up the gang plank. “What happened?” 

“Broken arm,” Luke muttered as the droid set him down on one of the only chairs of their ship. “No pain meds.” 

“Right, K2, seal the hatches. We’re getting out of here.” 

“Right,” Cassian grinned as K2 patted Luke’s head and moved to do as ordered. 

It wasn’t until they were in hyperspace, given Luke a fair amount of painkillers and begun to eat, did Cassian finally sit down to talk to his fellow rebel. The silence the preluded the conversation was awkward. Luke stared a hole into the bulkhead and Cassian twiddled his thumbs. Thankfully, K2 was not uncomfortable and didn’t usually care about human social conventions. 

“Have you been moonlighting with other rebels?” 

“Moonlighting with other rebels.” Cassian sighed. “Luke, they arrested you for being a part of that movie. Except for none of the rebels were involved in it. None of the rebel cells took credit for that.” 

“The Alliance wasn’t involved,” Luke muttered, “so the credit can’t go to them. Besides, I can’t imagine Mothma ever condemning the Empire as pointedly as that movie did. Hell, didn’t she say the movie was a gross insult?” 

“Luke.” The blonds temper was usually close to the surface, and Cassian didn’t want to get caught in the crossfire. 

“You can’t tell them why I was arrested,” Luke said sharply. 

“Why not? What you’ve done could put the whole rebellion at risk.” 

“I helped the rebellion! I helped the cause!” 

“How?” Cassian demanded. 

“By making people laugh at the very thing that scares them,” Luke growled. “Satirizing the generals and admirals and Vader until they’re not some gods of destruction. They can be stopped and defeated.” 

“You were an idiot! You should have kept your head down and gotten your information. That’s all we needed you to do!” 

“What? To sit in some tiny apartment forever and watch the galaxy go by. Let the fate of the universe fall into other hands? I saw an opportunity to help, and I took it.” Luke tried to sit up, but fell back. Cassian helped steady him. “I can do more than just sit there and be quiet. I don’t care what the High Command thinks.” 

“You could have gotten killed,” Cassian snarled. “Your whole mission put at risk because you felt petty.” 

“It wasn’t pettiness,” the blond faced the wall. “You know that people don’t think I’m useful. I can do more, Cassian. I can.” 

“You’re doing it the wrong way! You’re just like the rest of us so you can do the shitty jobs just like the rest of us.” 

“Except I’m not!” Luke shouted, and he tried to rise off the seat. Cassian pushed him gently back. Despite his anger, his friend was still his friend. “You know that I’m not supposed to be. You know I’m supposed to be.” 

“Kid,” the ship went quiet as Luke covered his eyes with his working hand. Cassian pretended not to notice the tears. “You can’t help being what you are.”

“And what’s that?” 

“Normal, Luke. You’re normal. I’m normal. Hell, even K2 is normal, and he’s a droid.” 

“I’m not supposed to be! I’m supposed to be something else, and you know it!” 

“What’s so great about being magic anyway? Why would you want to be a Jedi? Huh?” 

“That’s why they sent me away. That’s why they wanted to station me on some tiny planet with artists and crazy people. I was an embarrassment. I am an embarrassment.” Cassian shook his head. 

“Whatever, Luke. You’re not an embarrassment. You’re a spy like me. I don’t care what that crazy Jedi. Do you have the information that we need?”

“Yeah.” Luke pulled his hand from his eye and held out his arm. “I can’t get the compartment open; you’ll have to do it.” 

Cassian grinned and thumbed the spot on Luke’s wrist where a pulse would have been if it wasn’t a mechanical hand. It slid open easily, and a tiny data chip fell out. 

“Good job.” 

“Thanks,” Luke stared at the ceiling and didn’t look his direction.

“Kid,” the older man glanced at K2. “I won’t tell them why you were arrested, but you can’t do anything like this again.” 

“Like what again?” 

“Like that movie. We’ve got a plan to get rid of the Empire. You doing that only made it more difficult.” 

“I don’t think you understand how much of a group effort a movie like that is,” Luke said flatly. “Just because I’m not there won’t mean it won’t happen again. You’d think that High Command would be glad of the help.” 

“They aren’t.” 

“Of course, they aren’t,” Luke rolled his eyes. “are we going back to the base?”

“Yeah, try to clean up your attitude before we get there.” 

“Right,” the blond said mockingly. “Can’t have anyone showing discontent in front of High Command. Gods forbid. Don’t worry; I’ll be nice and demure and quiet. Just like they want.” 

“Be careful that you don’t rebel so hard that you rebel against the rebels.”

“I leave that to Jyn,” the mood lightened at Luke’s cheeky grin. “Seen any pictures with here recently? Any of those subversive films?” He wiggled his eyebrows. 

“Shut up,” Cassian refused to admit to his blush. “You’re lucky that they didn’t shoot you on the spot when they arrested you.”

“I think some in the Empire are actually fans,” Luke closed his eyes and sighed as the pain medications kicked in. “How long until we get back?” 

“A few days, hopefully they set that arm right, so we don’t have to re-break it when we do get you checked out.” 

“Hopefully.” The rebels went silent and K2 was bored enough to power down. “Do you think that Vader watched my movie?” Luke piped up. 

“I hope not, for your sake.” 

#$#$#$3

Returning to Yavin 4 felt less like a homecoming and more like the last stretch of a walk to execution for Luke. It wasn’t as if danger laid for him here. Here, he was a rebel among rebels. He wasn’t in any physical danger so long as he avoided confrontation with Saw Gerrera. Whatever Anakin Skywalker had done during the war, had embittered him to Skywalkers forever. 

 

He stayed close to Cassian’s side; half because he was having difficulty walking and half because he wanted to hide from the stares. 

“Don’t look at them, Luke,” Cassian muttered as he half-carried and half-dragged Luke across the landing bay. “Come on; we need to make it to the medic.” 

“I’m not looking,” Luke said, his voice was faded from the pain. The pain relievers had run out their second day into the hyperspace trip. “I’m not looking.” 

“Good,” K2 said loudly, “because people are staring at you. Why are they staring?” Embarrassed, most of them turned away and went back to their tasks. “I thought humans thought it was rude to stare.” 

“Thanks, K2,” Luke said. He all but collapsed on the stretcher that a frantic medical team had dragged out to meet them. The medics fluttered about him, and Cassian was left behind as they pushed Luke on. 

“You know what’s rude, Kaytoo? Is being so obvious about everything.” Cassian glowered at the droid, who shrugged. 

“I am a free droid. I choose when to care and when not to care.” 

“So you do care about Luke?” 

“I do not care right now,” K2 said.

“But you’ll care later?” 

“I might,” the droid pointed to the distant form of General Draven. “That is my choice.”

“Let’s go,” Cassian nodded, accepting the answer. “Remember the story.” As they reached the frowning general, he saluted. K2 didn’t bother to acknowledge the man. “General.” 

“You were supposed to retrieve the information,” Draven snapped, “not the boy.” 

“When we reached the rendezvous point, sir. Luke had already been arrested under rebellious accusations.”

“Arrested as a rebel?” 

“We rescued him from the hospital. He was injured during his arrest. I decided to bring him back.” 

“Alright,” General Draven glanced from the direction Luke had vanished into. “Well, where is the information he needed to have gotten?”

“Right here,” Cassian handed over the small data chip. “This contains everything you needed.” 

“Excellent. Get yourself cleaned up, eat, and some sleep. I expect a full report tomorrow.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“And if you see Kenobi then tell him he’s needed at the command center.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Dismissed,” they exchanged salutes and Cassian was finally free for the evening. 

#$#$#

Obi-Wan hadn’t expected to see Luke so soon after he’d left on his last mission. He was supposed to be stationed on that unassuming moon for years. It had only been one and a half since they’d loaded him onto the ship and sent him away. 

A year and a half probably wasn’t enough time to get the necessary information, but fate usually had a way of intervening in these matters. 

“You have a habit of getting yourself into trouble, young Skywalker.” He watched the blond on the bed turn to look at him. His face was expressionless, but his emotions soured instantly. 

“Master Jedi.” Obi-Wan felt his heart constrict. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” The cold, indifferent tone hurt almost as much as if Luke had slapped him. 

“I heard you mission when a little south. Getting into trouble, as usual?” 

“Trouble found me,” Luke said blithely. “My early return can’t be the only reason you’re here, Master Jedi.” 

“No,” Obi-Wan sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I wanted to talk to you.” 

“My mission report is scheduled for later.” Luke’s blue eyes had once been as soft and understanding as Anakin’s. They had burned with excitement and joy. Now, they were bitter and hard. “I am certain we can discuss the details of my mission then.” 

“I don’t want to talk about your mission, Luke.” 

“I don’t think I’ve given my handlers any reason to complain.”

“Not about that, Luke.” Frustrated, Obi-Wan stepped into the hastily assembled med-bay. “I wanted to talk to you about you. I just want to talk.” 

“About?” Luke hadn’t moved, and his expression had morphed from polite indifference to a solid ‘fuck you.’ 

“Well,” Obi-Wan paused at the side of the bed, “how are you doing?” 

“I am fine. The painkiller is kicking in.” 

“That’s good,” Kenobi smiled, “my team and I managed to get more bacta and medicine. We’ve been running low.” 

“Thank you for your service, Master Jedi.” 

“Are you going to be disrespectful all afternoon?” Obi-Wan demanded. “All I want to do is talk to you. Is that so damn hard?” He watched Luke press the call button to summon the nurse. “What are you?” 

“Is something wrong?” A twi’lek nurse stuck his head in the door. “Hello, Jedi. Luke?” 

“I think there might be a concussion,” Luke said, blank-faced. “My head hurts, and I think I’m about to throw up.”

“Damn,” the nurse rushed in and waved Obi-Wan out. Jilted and frustrated, the Jedi stormed from the med-bay and toward a landing pad that was some distance into the jungle. As he arrived, he saw two blue lightsabers crashing against each other. He paused outside their training circle and waited for them to pause. 

Kanan’s green eyes flickered toward him, but his attention was totally on the young man in front of him. Ezra didn’t even notice him; so intent on trying to defeat his master. They sparred across the dusty circle, back and forth until Hera stuck her head out of the Ghost and shouted. 

“Wrap it up, boys.” With a simple jab and a twisting maneuver, Kanan disarmed Ezra and sent the weapon flying off into the jungle and the boy to the ground. 

“Son of the bitch!” Ezra shouted, Obi-Wan’s eyebrows shot up, and Hera’s laughter could be heard from inside. Ezra glanced up at Kanan, whose arms were crossed, and his mouth was twisted into a stern frown. 

“Ezra,” he said warningly, and Ezra ducked his head. 

“Oops,” scuffed his shoe against the ground. 

“Bad habits,” Kanan chided. Not like a Jedi, but more like a father. Obi-Wan had been around enough rebel families to see the similarities. 

“I know, I know. Cursing isn’t polite, but you just knocked me to the ground.” 

“Got to keep your guard up,” Kanan said as he wiped the sweat off his brow. “Go get it.” 

“I was planning on it,” Ezra griped, making toward the woods. Except he was stopped. “What?” 

“With the force,” Kanan said, pointing in the direction of the lightsaber. “You can do it.” 

“I guess,” Ezra said doubtfully. He closed his eyes and held out his hand, expression focused. A second later the lightsaber came sailing out of the woods and smacked straight into Ezra’s face. “Ow!” 

“Work on your aim,” Kanan laughed and patted Ezra’s back, gently pushing him in the direction of the ship. “Go, I think Hera has a few chores for you.” 

“There are always chores,” Ezra grumbled, but he left willingly enough. “Hera! It’s not my turn to do dishes! It’s Sabine’s.” 

“I did dishes last night!” Sabine shouted from inside the ship and Kanan listened to the ensuing argument with a smile. When he turned to Obi-Wan, the smile faded. 

“Young Bridger seems to be progressing well.” 

“He’s always willing to learn. Besides, now that he’s not technically malnourished he’s got the energy to get into trouble.”

“Yes, how do you two get along too well?”

“I take care of him. Or, I help. Hera helps too, and Zeb and Chopper and Sabine.” 

“A nice little family unit.” 

“Yep,” Kanan began to stretch out his sore muscles. “Did you try to talk to Luke again?” 

“What?” 

“You always come by to sulk when your conversations with Luke don’t go well,” Kanan explained, choosing to ignore the Master. Unlike Obi-Wan, Kanan had long ago abandoned the Jedi robes. The only thing that showed he was Jedi was the lightsaber hanging from his hip. “And you complain about him. What did you do now?” 

“I didn’t think I did anything. I admit to not being perfect, and I certainly haven’t had the best practice in getting along with children. Still! I was sure that I was as polite as polite can be!” 

“You could have been,” Kanan answered, “but you already estranged yourself from him when you ditched him.” 

“I didn’t ditch him!” Kenobi protested. The young Jedi shrugged.

“What do you want, Obi-Wan?”

“I want to know how you two get along so well? I didn’t ever reach that level of camaraderie with Anakin, and I couldn’t ever reach it with Luke! How do you get Ezra to trust you? Why doesn’t he resent you for correcting him? You’re his master!” 

“Not all master/Padawan relationships are terrible,” Kanan told him. Obi-Wan gritted his teeth. 

“I know that.” 

“Do you really want to know why Luke won’t talk to you?” 

“Yes!” Obi-Wan only just restrained himself from throwing his hands in the air.

“He. Doesn’t. Like. You.” Jarrus said, loudly and slowly. “You. Hurt. His. Feelings!” 

“I didn’t mean to!” Kenobi exclaimed. Around them, the jungle went quiet at his shout. Obi-Wan lowered his hands and sighed. “I didn’t mean to.” 

“You did,” Kanan shrugged. 

“I didn’t want to hurt his feelings.” 

“Did you tell him that?” Kanan asked, and Obi-Wan scoffed. “Did you apologize?” 

“I am.” 

“Not his master or his teacher,” the younger Jedi said with the confidence that only full-time parenting could give. “You hurt his feelings. You’ve got to apologize. You’ve got to mean it. Look, when I accidentally hurt Ezra’s feelings or Sabine’s, I apologize. I don’t get insulted because they got insulted. I say sorry, and we move from there. Ezra is sensitive, and Sabine has a hair-trigger. Our meanings don’t always connect. There’s been some pretty intense miscommunication. Look, Kenobi, I watched you with Luke for a few years. You hurt his feelings. You’ve got to say sorry. He might actually talk to you then.” 

“He might,” Obi-Wan said doubtfully. He wanted to argue with Kanan; except it was obvious to everyone how much better he was at the training and parenting. “You expect me to believe that you and Ezra get along so well just because you apologize?” 

“No, that’s not the only reason.”

“Then what is it?”

“Well, I had to work hard to earn his trust. He didn’t want to tell me anything.” 

“I doubt he tells you everything now.” 

“Probably not, but he tells me the most of it. “

“Even if it would get him into trouble?”

“Even then.” 

“Why? Why would he tell you something that would get him into trouble?” 

“Because he trusts me now,” the younger Jedi seemed to be getting impatient. 

“It sounds more like you’re a father than a Jedi,” Obi-Wan snapped. Kanan shrugged. 

“Maybe so, but it the Order is dead. The Republic is dead. We’ve got to work with what we’ve got, and I don’t think that I could take care of Ezra half as well as I am now if I was following the old rules.” 

“They were thousands of years of tradition!” 

“Oh good! Tradition! What a great idea. Look where tradition got us! One some stinky jungle planet with everything we ever knew or cared about set on fire! That’s great! We’re actively hunted by the Sith right now! We’ve to change and adapt if we’re going to survive at all.” 

“We have to maintain the traditions of the ancient masters!” 

“Like the way you did with Skywalker? Both of them? And you see how that turned out!” The silence following their argument was sudden enough that it rang in their ears. Both Kanan and Obi-Wan stared at him. 

“Will you talk to him?” Kenobi said after a long moment. “Try to get him to open up. I want to be able to talk to him again. Just to talk to him again. I practically raised him. I just want things to go back to the way they were.” 

“I’ll talk to him,” Kanan said after a long moment, “but I promise nothing.” 

“I suppose that’ll do,” Obi-Wan said, and he gave a shallow bow and left the younger Jedi alone. Kanan stared after him and proceeded up the ramp to find Hera waiting just inside. 

“What did he want?” 

“He wants me to talk to Luke.” They stayed in the shadows, whispering. 

“Why?” 

“To get Luke to open up to him.” 

“You have to know that’s not going to work,” Hera hissed, “Luke hates him.” 

“Luke doesn’t,” Kanan paused, “I don’t know what Luke thinks. I can’t say for sure anyway. The point it, dearest, is that he wants to reconnect with Luke.”

“In the middle of a war?” 

“Yep, he also asked me how Ezra and I get along so well.” Hera scoffed. 

“You’re a good parent, excuse me, teacher.” 

“I try,” Kanan watched Hera’s lekku twitch with annoyance. “Hera, I don’t know if there is anything I can do. Luke probably won’t even want to talk to me.” 

“He might not,” Hera said honestly. “He won’t want to talk to a Jedi.” 

“I wouldn’t blame him.” 

“I could talk to him,” Hera offered, Kanan shook his head. “Well, if you’re going to brood I have teenagers to corral into cleaning my ship.” 

“You have fun with that,” Kanan kissed her cheek affectionately. “I am going to meditate.” Hera left, and Kanan didn’t make it more than a few steps down the gangplank before Ezra popped up at his side. “So, how much did you hear?” 

“Hear, Master?” The wide-eyed innocence vanished as Ezra ducked to avoid playful smack. “I don’t eavesdrop.” 

“Ezra.” 

“Alright, so I did drop some eaves. I’m just curious. You said curiosity is a good thing.” 

“Ezra.” 

“What happened with Luke Skywalker?” Ezra asked, and Kanan sighed. He’d known the question was coming and he still didn’t want to broach the topic.

“Ezra, this isn’t.” 

“I’ve seen the way people look at him. I know that Saw hates him. I know that even if he’s a rebel, he’s a strange rebel. What’s the problem,” Ezra looked serious, “you promised that you’d never lie to me, Kanan.” 

“It isn’t a matter of lying to you,” Kanan set a hand on his shoulder, “but privacy. Not just Kenobi’s, but Luke’s.” 

“Kanan, I want to help. I can help.” 

“Ezra,” Kanan shook his head and looped his arm over his shoulder. “Come on.” He led his student to their favorite meditation spot. It sat behind a waterfall that was about ten feet tall and fed a pool that was deep enough to dive into from the top. Enormous fish swam around the bottom and fed on unlucky rebels who were foolish to ignore the warning signs posted everywhere. 

“So,” Ezra watched as Kanan plopped down on his favorite rock and sighed. “What’s up?” 

“The matter of Luke Skywalker is a very, very delicate one. You can’t talk about this to anyone else. Alright?” 

“Alright. I promise.”

“If you do,” Kanan made a threatening gesture. Ezra nodded. “Well, it started back during the war. I’m not clear on the details but at some point, Anakin Skywalker got married, and his wife had a kid.” 

“You’re married and have,” Ezra shrugged as he blushed, “two kids. Three if you count Chopper.” 

Kanan kept his smile small, but he almost crowed with smug joy. 

“This was before the Empire. The Order was strict about these things. If he’d been found out, then he would have been expelled from the order. Well, the Empire mess happened the baby was born.” 

“Luke.” 

“Yes, I heard his mother died in childbirth. So, Luke was raised, on the run, by Obi-Wan and the rest of the rebels who he began building the Alliance with.” 

“If Luke is the son of Anakin Skywalker, wouldn’t he be a Jedi too?” 

“Erm,” Kanan rubbed the back of his neck. “Not exactly. Just because you have a kid doesn’t mean that they’d inherit your force ability.” 

“Luke doesn’t have his father’s force ability?” Ezra blinked a few times. “So?” 

“Well, erm, this is why I didn’t want to tell you. The Alliance High Command was pretty much banking on Luke being force sensitive.” 

“Why?” 

“Because it’s believed that the son of Skywalker would be the Chosen One.” 

“The who?” 

“It’s,” Kanan blushed under the increasingly disbelieving stare. “An old Jedi story. A Chosen One would bring balance to the force and then...well. Luke wasn't force sensitive, but people thought that he was self-repressing his powers because he grew up on the run. I don’t think anyone took it seriously when they actually figured out Luke wouldn’t be a Jedi. He just didn’t have the ability. A force blind person outnumbers those who can feel the force by almost 10,000 to 1. Everyone thought that kid of someone as powerful as Anakin Skywalker would be just as strong if not more so.” 

“So, Luke isn't force sensitive. Why does that matter to everyone else?” 

“They wanted him to be.” 

“But he wasn’t.” 

“Yes.” 

“But how does that make Obi-Wan and Luke not on speaking terms?” 

“Well, you have to understand Kenobi. He lost his best friend and his student to Vader. He had to take Luke and run, and he was…he took Luke’s lacking ability pretty damn hard.”

“Did he take it personally?” Ezra’s eyes were wider than Kanan had ever seen them. Even when they’d had the awkward ‘facts of life’ discussion. 

“I think so.”

“So, Luke…was stuck.” 

“All is as the force wills it,” Kanan assured Ezra, “Luke doesn’t have to be force sensitive. I know I’m pretty new to parenting, but wouldn’t it hurt you if I only took you in because I thought you were force sensitive and turned out not to be and then just started to ignore you. Or if someone raised their child as a boy or a girl because they wanted the other.” 

“Why would people do that. You wouldn’t do that? You would have taken me in even if I wasn’t Jedi material?” 

“Ezra,” Kanan put his hands on Ezra’s shoulders, “listen. It didn’t matter if you were force sensitive. If you weren’t, you would still be part of this crew. Even if you weren’t I’d still teach you; I’d just teach you different things. What made Luke and Obi-Wan strangers was the fact that Obi-Wan and the rest of high command wanted him to be something that he wasn’t. I know for a fact that some of them hold it against him.” 

“That’s not fair!” Ezra exclaimed. 

“But that’s what happened. Once Luke got older he. You can’t raise someone like that and expect them to be alright. You just can’t. It’s not good for them, and it's not good for you. Yes, it did hurt Luke, and that’s why he might not want to talk to you or me. I am a Jedi, and you are my student who is about his age.”

“Oh,” Ezra nodded, “I get it. Have you been reading parenting books?” 

“How’d you know?” Kanan finally cracked a smile. 

“I found a few of them under your bunk when I was looking for life-day presents and snacks.” 

“Stay out from under my bunk,” Kanan ordered, “and yes. I have been reading parenting books. They’re very helpful.” 

“Wait a second. Since Luke isn’t force sensitive, is that why the people went crazy when you introduced me?” 

“Erm,” Kanan nodded. “I’m going to tell you something, and this can’t go past us.” 

“Alright.” 

“I waited as long as I did to introduce you,” Kanan nodded to himself, “to make sure our master/Padawan bond couldn’t be broken.” 

“Um…” 

“They would have insisted that Obi-Wan was supposed to teach you.” 

“Ew.”

“Yeah. He’d older than I am, better trained, a better fencer and negotiator. Mothma would have insisted that you be his student.” 

“You didn’t want me to be though?” 

“I was,” he paused, “selfish. I wanted to train you. I wanted you to be a member of the ghost crew. I wanted enough that I disobeyed a dozen and a half orders until I was sure.” 

“We bonded, not just on a master/ Padawan level. We bonded as a…pair first. Like you were the guardian and.” 

“I wanted you to be alright. All those nights you couldn’t sleep. Every time you threw up something that you couldn’t eat. I wanted to be the one to help you. I wanted to be the one you came to with your problems and when you had questions. I just. It was the same thing with Sabine. Hera tells me that I need to stop collecting kids, but.” Ezra scooted closer until he was within hugging range. Kanan obliged. 

“One of the reasons I was so standoffish when I first came was because I didn’t want to get attached to you. I thought it would be worse when I had to leave.” 

“But you got attached?” Kanan asked, and Ezra nodded. “I’m glad you liked us enough to stay.” 

“Hard not to,” Ezra shrugged, “you make great pancakes.” 

“That I do, that I do.” 

“So, what about Luke. Are you going to talk to him?’ 

“Well, one of the things the books taught me was that if someone who made a mistake doesn’t recognize that they made a mistake and won’t apologize, then there might not be a point to even discussing it.” 

“Then why doesn’t he leave? If he doesn’t like Obi-Wan or anyone, why would he stay? He doesn’t have to.” Kanan grimaced and didn’t voice his doubts. 

“I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t really know.”

#$#$34

There was a marked difference in how his subordinates treated him before the widespread release of the film, A Bridge Away, and then after. 

Before, the mere outline of his helmet had been enough to terrify people into silence. His silhouette was iconic and feared. Now, the outline of his helmet immediately brought for the image of a middle-aged woman wearing hair curlers and a peeling face-mask. It came up so quickly and suddenly in his officer's mind that avoiding it was impossible to avoid. In fact, the parody of himself was so prevalent, that Vader had difficulty banishing the image from his mind. 

He refused to consider that once upon a time he would have loved the mocking parody of authority. He was older now; a Sith who wasn’t going to stand to be mocked. 

His primary mission was to exterminate the rebels, Obi-Wan, and slowly tortured to death whichever rebel agent was responsible for such anti-Imperial propaganda.

Agent Kallus had previously been considered a useful, effective agent. Up to the point when he’d been shot point-blank by a reprogrammed Imperial droid. He’d survived, but he was still useless until he was healed. 

“The rebel I interviewed vanished,” Kallus reported from his bed. His stared up at Vader with the same wary, frightened expression the rebel must have given him. “Furthermore, the recording studio that the presumed Mr. Smith used was a recording studio for,” Vader noted the faint embarrassment on Kallus’s face. “An adult film studio. Not for anything else. My men who interviewed the employees of the studio haven’t seen anyone of his description around. His bank account has been cleaned out, and his apartment was perfectly clean.” 

“Very well,” Vader loomed over Kallus and surveyed the man. A career man, intelligent but not imaginative. He wouldn’t see the sorts of tricks the rebels had coming unless he unwound. “What results have the blood tests given you?” 

Kallus winced as he gestured to a datapad beside his bed. “The machine was sabotaged before any relevant information could be given. I believe the droid damaged it on its way out.’ 

“Very well. Locate this rebel, Kallus. You will be joining the task force specifically created to find the creators of the rebel propaganda.” 

“Yes, Lord Vader.” 

“Unharmed and alive,” Vader said, “so that he may be executed properly.”

$#$#$#

Luke considered himself an effective operator and spy when he was given a clear mission objective and set loose. He was slightly hindered as an effective operator now. The imps had his face and his blood, and his handlers didn’t know this. Hell, they didn’t even know that Luke was working with other anti-Imperial groups. 

His current mission, which was to blend into the background society of a low-ranking Imperial planet, was more dangerous than it would have been before he’d gotten arrested. 

“Are you sure you should be drinking?” Luke turned a bit to face the Imperial who had spoken. The party he was attending as a low-ranking society person, was attended by officers and starlets. Luke was pretty sure he’d seen a few of his associates from the film here. The actress who had played the not-Vader in the movie. 

The man in front of him was short, graying and balding, with an air of annoyance. 

“Drinking?” 

“I realize that the court society usually allows this sort of nonsense, but I do frown on underage drinking and must ask you to find another beverage.” 

“I’m 17,” Luke lied, “and this is not alcoholic. It’s a sparkling cider.” He held up the glass for the officer’s inspection. The man turned a bit pink. “Don’t apologize,” Luke said kindly, “I understand why you might have been mistaken.” 

“Ah,” the officer cleared his throat. “Very well. What do you think of the evening’s entertainment?” 

“Opera isn’t my favorite,” Luke said quietly. The officer nodded. “Excuse me, sir. What is your name?” 

“Oh, I am Lt. Piett.”

“Turroo Demoins,” Luke held out a hand, and they shook. 

“A Naboo accent with a Naboo name.”

“I am from Naboo,” he lied, “but I’ve lived here for a few months. I found Naboo too….domestic for my tastes.”

“Domestic?” 

“Yes,” Luke watched Imperials reaction closely as he brought his drink to his lips. “I’ve been looking for some proper excitement.” 

“Have you considered enlistment?” The Imp offered, and Luke rolled his eyes. 

“Yes, except you have such bland uniforms.” The stark difference between Luke’s clothes and Piett’s were more apparent. Luke was dressed in fashion and wealth. The officer was not. “And then there is a lot of running and all of that shouting. It sounds terrible.” 

“I see,” the man wasn’t the person Luke was looking for. He seemed insulted by Luke’s words. “Excitement with the comfort you’re used to?” 

“Oh, yes,” Luke sipped his drink idly as the officer observed him with a critical stare. 

“I understand there is an amusement park on this world,” Piet said acidly. Luke stared with mounting shock. “I understand there are a few rollercoasters that are quite exciting.” 

“They might be,” Luke laughed, surprising the officer, “but that wasn’t what I was referring to. I was talking about aid work. I can only stand so many of these parties without having an interesting story to tell. I was looking into joining an aid group, or perhaps an anti-trafficking ring. Hopefully, something that could get me into something useful.” 

“Hmm, Axxila’s anti-pirate fleet is accepting applications for recruits. If you know how to fly already.” 

“I am a fairly good pilot,” Luke tilted his head, “what about advancement opportunities?” 

“Available for those who can prove themselves as a good leader and strategist.” 

“Hmm,” Luke felt his blood run cold as a rhythmic hissing noise echoed from the entrance of the room. As one, the partygoers turned to watch as Vader descended on the ball-room. Stormtroopers clattered after him. “What is going on? 

“Attention!” An officer, reedy and with a weasley face, sneered at the halted party. “This building is under lock-down. No one may enter or leave. We will be searching the entire building; each person will be searched.” 

“What for?” Demanded someone who might have been from Hapes. Luke wasn’t sure. He didn’t make a frantic motion to hide, as some people looked ready to bolt. The man that Luke had pegged as a Black Sun agent was vibrating where he stood. 

“A rebel agent is here,” Luke exchanged a startled glance with Piett. The officer eyed him curiously. Luke shrugged. “We intend to find them.” 

The Black Sun agent bolted, turning around and running smack into Luke, who toppled beneath the weight. If he dragged the man down, well, only he would know. Luke grappled with him, shouting for help, and slipped the data chip into the man’s breast pocket. Troopers were on them in a second, yanking the criminal off Luke and cuffing him. Piett and another trooper helped Luke to his feet. Luke shook his head; and brushed down his front; sputtering all the while. He pretended to ignore the men as the data chip was held out to Vader. 

The Sith stared at his for a moment and then turned with deliberate slowness to Luke. 

“It is fortunate you managed to stop him.”

“Fortunate enough that I can get reimbursed for this suit?” Luke demanded. There was a collective gasp from the assembled party-goers. Vader shook a finger at Luke. 

“Respect your superiors, insolent brat.” 

“I would if I had any,” Luke’s sarcasm was going to get him into trouble, that much he knew. “You carry rank in the military, which I’m not a part of. So, you don’t technically qualify as a superior.” 

Vader’s voice was dangerously silky, “that can be changed. Troopers!” 

Luke was seized by a pair of enormous stormtroopers, who cuffed him in seconds. The smirk dropped off his face as Luke realized he’d probably miscalculated. Vader didn’t have a sense of humor and Luke had just done the equivalent of jabbing a rancor with a stun baton. He shouldn’t have been surprised at the results, but he was. 

Luke didn’t have a chance to escape. Apparently, the troopers took his sarcasm personally and settled for roughing him up. By the time he made it to the shuttle, Luke was pretty sure he was bruised up on his arms and shoulders. He was also tossed into the same cell at the Black Sun agent who he’d planted with the information. It was only because the man was so thoroughly trussed up, that he didn’t attack Luke. 

#$#$#$

“My lord,” considering the towering mood that Vader was in, it probably wasn’t the best idea to approach him about the sarcastic, reckless Nubian he’d forcibly conscripted that evening. Still, if the lad was going to punished, then there had to be a right way about it. 

“What?” Was it presumptuous to say that Vader seemed surprised that someone else was coming to see him on a non-military related matter? 

“I wanted to speak to you regarding the young Nubian who was arrested his evening.” 

Vader looked up from his paperwork and then stood. “What do you have to say?”

“Milord, when I spoke to Turroo Demoins earlier this evening, he expressed interest in enlistment into the Axilla Anit-Pirate fleet. He told me himself that he was a fair pilot, and due to his background, he may be more useful in a different place than as stormtrooper or just a data analyst.” 

“His disrespect will not go unpunished,” Vader rumbled, and Piet swallowed down his terror, but braved on. 

“No, my lord, but I believe that he can be utilized more effectively and possibly properly dealt with somewhere else.” 

“You have one such plan in mind.” 

“With proper training, I believe that Mr. Demoins would make an exceptional personal aide. For you.” 

Piett felt it was safe to say that he had managed to surprise Vader. The Dark Lord nodded. 

“Prepare for the boy's transfer to the officer's academy on Uyter,” Vader ordered. “Expedited training. The boy will regret his insolence.” 

E$#$#$

It had been a year since anyone had seen Luke. After a raid on a party, he was supposed to have been canvassing for information; he’d vanished. High Command assumed the worst had happened and that Vader had captured Luke to torture him for information. 

Nothing. Imperials didn’t act on the information Luke held, so he must not have cracked. It was assumed after a year of Imperial custody, that Luke Skywalker was dead. If he wasn’t dead, then he was as good as dead. 

#$#$#$

It was getting harder and harder to remember that he was Luke Skywalker. Son of Anakin Skywalker. He had been Turroo Demoins for a year now. Answering to commanders and officers and comm calls as Cadet Demoins. It was on all of his uniform tags so that the laundry could send it back to him on time. It was at the top of every assignment he had to turn in. The name was embossed on a name-tag that he wore pinned to his shiny new uniform. 

Luke was now the age he’d proclaimed himself to be at the fateful party a year ago. His 17th birthday had come and gone. Celebrated by his commanding officer as his 18th, and then had condescendingly given him his official orders as Vader’s aide. The unpleasant shock, obvious on his face that he could be serving Lord Vader personally had sent the other man into gales of laughter. It wasn’t just that he was going to be serving a man who forcibly conscripted him after one careless comment. Or the fact that Vader had offered to release Luke if he gave a proper apology. Since Luke wasn’t about to debase himself like that, even though both Obi-Wan and the Imperials had tried to train the pride out of him. He was now set to board a shuttle to take him to the ISD Devastator. Heaped onto the worst facts of his new assignment, was the fact that Vader had killed Luke’s father. 

If Luke slipped, even once, he would kill Luke too. 

“Demoins!” Captain Idler entered the small room and nodded with approval at Luke’s new uniform. “Handsome as the devil himself. You’ll make a good impression.” He set down his briefcase.

“Thank you, sir,” Luke turned and let the man fuss over his collar and sleeves. 

“Hmph, you remember your training, Turroo. I won’t have you sent back in a body-bag because I didn’t train you properly.” Idler liked to think that he had trained the insolence and brattiness out of Luke. Turning him from an idle rich kid to a strong Imperial officer. He hadn’t, but he was much nicer than any of the other officers at the academy; so, Luke let him fuss. 

“Anything that happens,” Luke said, plucking at his sleeves, “is going to be because I did it, not because you didn’t train me.” 

“Training includes not getting you killed by you being stupid enough to make those decisions,” Idler smacked his shoulder. Luke almost smiled. “I know you can’t make it to your graduation ceremony with the other cadets.” 

“Say one stupid thing at a party, and suddenly your goose is cooked.” 

“Anyway,” Idler glowered, “I got you a little something. Don’t tell anyone. Consider it a combination birthday and graduation gift.” He removed a small box from his briefcase and a slightly large one. Luke stared, feeling his chest tighten as the man handed them over. “Go on.” 

Luke glanced down at swallowed down a sudden lump in his throat. The small box was a set of chocolates, an expensive present and one that Idler would know Luke would love. It showed how much attention he was paying to Luke. 

“Don’t eat those all at once,” Idler chided as Luke turned the box over in his hands. The chocolates rattled about in their plastic casings. Inviting him to pick them out one at a time and savor. The second box was a shaving kit. A high-end and expensive brand that gentlemen favored. Luke wondered how Idler would have known which one to get since the man had a very impressive mustache and beard. “You’re a man now.” The man said gruffly. There was something suspiciously wet in his eyes. “You’re going to need to shave off the fuzz until you can properly grow a beard.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever grow a beard,” Luke said uncomfortably. He was 16 when he'd started his academic career, and he was finally 17 and still hadn’t started growing facial hair. 

“Nonsense, you’ll have the most impressive one of your graduating class, Demoins.” 

“If you say so, sir.” 

“That’s my last order to you, Demoins. You get old enough to grow a beard like mine. Understood?” 

“Yes, sir.” Luke wasn’t surprised when Idler grabbed him for a brief, manly hug. He hugged back, putting a few unspoken emotions into it as possible. 

“Now,” Idler stood back, “Lord Vader isn’t as nice as I am. He’s got high, high standards. Don’t give him a reason to get angry at you. Don’t give him an excuse to punish you. Don’t do that sass thing of yours, and work quickly and efficiently.” 

“I promise,” Luke said, taking his two presents and packing them into his bags. He glanced out the window to see the stream of students leaving the academy to the field where the graduation was taking place. Their excitement could be felt in the air, vibrating the core of the planet. If he was going, to be honest, Luke was jealous of them. He wished he was doing this because he wanted to. He wanted to be that excited and happy. 

“Thing will start looking up,” Idler promised uselessly.

“You’re going to be late, sir.” 

“I’m off,” Idler said, he shook a hand at Luke again. “You be careful. Watch your step.”

“I will,” Luke slung his enormous duffle bag over his shoulder and nodded toward the window, “you’ll want to get going before they notice that you’re missing.” 

“Right,” Captain Idler left taking his briefcase. Luke squared his shoulders and made his way down to the shuttle bay where his new assignment was to start. 

#$#$#

 

“Lord Vader.” The Sith, preoccupied with trying to understand the recent reports his spies had brought him from the rebellion, didn’t answer the increasingly nervous captain until he felt thoroughly dissatisfied with his lack of understanding. 

“What is it?” He turned to the man who held out a datapad. 

“Your new aide is arriving this evening cycle, sir. Adjutant Demoins.” Vader remembered the insolent Nubian teenager vividly. It had been a year since he’d sentenced him to the academy and Vader wondered how the boy had changed. “Where would you like me to place him?”

“Near my quarters.” If Vader remembered there was a small room near his quarters that could fit an officer fine. Also, the Nubian hadn’t been on the large side. “I will need him often.” 

“Yes, my lord. Would you like me to send him to you as soon as he arrives?” 

“No, deal with the boy yourself,” Vader ordered. He didn’t have the time to introduce that boy to the ship. “Tomorrow afternoon, send him to my office.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

Vader considered the arrival of the Nubian. He’d never had an adjutant. He had used officers who cycled in and out of his office depending on how useful they were. None of them were trained to handle the problems that Vader needed to delegate. The fact that this Nubian had been publicly disrespectful was a bonus. 

He would sort out what the academy had missed and deal with Demoins properly. 

#$#$#$

Luke arrived half-way through the ships night cycle. The ship had dropped out of Hyperspace for the sole reason of accepting his shuttle and taking on Luke. It made him feel flattered, but as if Vader was mocking him. An officer, as tall as Vader himself, was waiting at the bottom of the shuttle’s ramp. He looked worn-out around the edges. Luke offered a crisp salute. 

“Sir, Ensign Turroo Demoins reporting as ordered.” 

“Excellent, Ensign, welcome aboard the ISD Devastator. I’m currently Lord Vader’s aide-de-camp, but you’ll be taking over the position officially tomorrow. Here are your code cylinders, don’t lose them. If you lose them, you’re automatically sentenced to two weeks of the brig. Followed by a trial to assess if it was malicious intent or just stupidity. You won’t like what happens.” That made sense. Luke would be serving the Supreme Commander of the Imperial Navy. Losing his stuff would be a disaster. 

“What happens?” 

“Execution.” 

“Ah,” Luke unconsciously rubbed his neck, and the man nodded knowingly. 

“You’re quarters a fairly close to his. You’re going to the only other person on his level. Keep your comm unit on at all times. Answer to every call, if you cannot answer for any reason, it had better be a damn good one.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Follow me,” the man turned, and Luke followed on his heels. They made it up to a part of the ship that was obviously infrequently visited by anyone. Once past a certain point, even stormtroopers vanished. The level was deserted, and rooms looked enormous. The one that the officer introduced Luke too was a small one. The outside wall had a wall to wall viewport that was the only commodity in the room. An attached refresher only had a shower, though there seemed to be real water available to him. The bunk was dreary in its blandness. The Imperial issue blankets and sheets that he had replacements for in his bag. There was no desk and left-over shelves from when the room had functioned as a storage room. It was pretty obvious which had just been added and what hadn’t. It was dreary and lonely, and Luke hated it. 

It was more room than he’d had with the rebellion, though. He didn’t have to share this one with anyone at least. Luke set his duffle bag onto the bunk and was given a tour of the office, a map of the ship, and a thick file on the officers aboard the ship, the ranking in the Imperial Navy and Army. 

“Lord Vader starts his day at six. You’ll be expected at his side exactly at six. Do not be late. If there is ever a transmission from the Emperor, inform Lord Vader immediately. It doesn’t matter who he’s with.” Luke tried his best to keep the information being lobbed at him straight. The man seemed happy as could be to be shedding his duties and obviously didn’t envy Luke the position of being Vader’s first official adjutant. Luke didn’t envy his position. Luke didn’t want to be here any more than the other man did. 

He was due for a short career and a swift execution. Thankfully, he didn’t have to memorize as much as the other officer thought he did. Luke had memorized much of the information when he had been with the rebels. 

Luke paused in the middle of yanking off his boots. 

The rebellion. What was he doing about the rebellion? A year missing and stuck in a stuffy, miserable Imperial Academy against his will and here he was. Soon to have access to the most top secret documents in the galaxy; he would be able to feed the rebellion information! 

Except that Vader was a mind reader, a force user that Luke would never be and Luke didn’t have the force to combat Vader’s inquiries. He would have to find a way around it. By one thoughtless insult, he’d ended up as the deepest cover spy the rebels had. 

#$#$#4

Vader had forgotten about the young aide. He was happy to forget except that young man appeared at his office door, exactly at six the next morning. 

“Lord Vader,” the young man saluted, and Vader was annoyed to discover there was little fault to be found. “Ensign Demoins.” 

Vader stood, easily looming over the young man. Despite his year of training, the boy hadn’t gotten much bigger. He was still on the short and scrawny side, lean to the point where any grandmother would demand to feed him more. His brown hair was sheared down to regulation length, brown eyes peered patiently at the Sith, waiting for his verdict. The uniform was impeccable, pressed and wrinkle-free. A datapad was tucked under his arm, and he stood at attention. Vader nodded finally. “Have you been informed of the nature of your duties, Ensign?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then I will waste no time. You will either succeed or fail miserably. I do not tolerate lateness, disobedience, disrespect, or stupidity. You will answer promptly when called, and I do not accept excuses.” 

“Yes, sir.” Vader considered the young ensign. 

“You represent me now. Your uniform much always be always be beyond reproach, your behavior is to be beyond polite.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Step out of line,” Vader shook his finger at the young man. Harkening back to the fateful night when they’d first met. “And your punishment will be swift and severe.”

“Yes, sir.” The boy swallowed visibly. 

“Now, to business.” 

#$#$3

 

Days off didn’t exist within the Empire. Weekends weren’t a thing, and any downtime that someone could get was just after or before their shift started. Luke, working directly with Darth Vader, didn’t even get that. 

Today was the first day that Luke had even a moment to himself. Vader was off terrifying someone and left Luke behind. The reason had been condescending, but Luke didn’t mind. He yanked off his boots and flopped onto his bed and let out a gusty groan of relief. Luke snuggled into his blankets and closed his eyes intent on getting some much-needed sleep. 

His feet hurt, his head ached, and he wanted to go back to when he was just a rebel spy who could go anywhere and do anything. He wanted to go back to his blond hair and blue eyes, not seeing a complete stranger every time he looked in the mirror. 

Vader hadn’t even given him any real access to information. Luke was running around as a glorified secretary. He had been cut off from his rebel handlers, from his fellow agents for almost a year and a half now. Luke had an unhappy feeling that if the rebels figured out where he was, they might suspect him as a turned agent. 

Saw Gerrra would see him only as a traitor. The son of Anakin Skywalker could only be as traitorous as his father. 

Obi-Wan might not think that Luke had betrayed him, but now he was far from Luke. He had been away from Luke ever since he’d finally accepted his lack of force sensitivity. 

Cassian might not think that Luke was a full blown Imperial now, but it might be difficult for him to accept that fact. 

He fell asleep, confused and unsure. 

#$#$#4

There was something odd about Turroo Demoins. Vader found it difficult not to draw comparisons between him and Padme. At times, the delicate shape of his face in a certain light, highlighting his hair and eyes, brought up the unpleasant thought of Vader’s wife. Sometimes, it was the shape of his chin, the way he spoke certain words, how he radiated the air of a displaced Nubian. 

Secrets too. Demoins carried many secrets and a pain that Vader knew he should not have noticed. As if the boy had been hurt, and it hadn’t come from his Imperial training. Still, for the involuntary reminders, he got of Padme from the boy, Turroo was only an officer. A young officer at that, but just another tool to be used. 

It was also odd to be sharing his level with anyone. True, the lad had been set into a room that had functioned as a closet, but there had been no complaints. His presence was more obvious than that of the protocol droids he’d used before. As quiet as he tried to keep, he still breathed and moved, and coughed. He still shuffled datapad around, once tripping over his own boots as he tried to turn. His work was impeccable though. Heavy, unpleasent files were now watered down to their barest information needed. His appointments were scheduled properly, and his new aide had updated quickly to the ship. Learning how to navigate Ozzel’s unpleasent personality and terrible attitude as well as endearing himself to the stormtroopers who guarded his quarters. Vader would have to take the boy everywhere. He didn’t anticipate having an adjutant being so difficult; now that the young Nubian represented Lord Vader in many circles, it meant that there needed to be special considerations for him. He would need space in every house Vader had. Orders had already been sent ahead to prepare the proper rooms on Coruscant, Naboo, Vjun, and Mustafar. A civilian wardrobe would need to be assembled, something to suit the boys new rank. 

Vader had not considered just what it meant to be taking an aide-de-camp meant. It meant elevating the boy to a position of civilian authority, a rank above normal officers because he carried the word of Vader. Since Palpatine had mocked Vader with the implication that the boy was dead as soon as he spoke too soon or too loud; he was intent to see this workout. To prove his master wrong; Vader would keep Ensign Turroo alive. 

He was fearful of the Sith, wary enough to be safe, but bold enough to be the barest hint of entertaining. Vader considered all of this as he pressed the release for the door into Turroo’s renovated closet. 

Vader paused and stared in some surprise. The lights were low, and the young Nubian was asleep, dead to the galaxy. He didn’t even stir as Vader waited just inside the door. He probed at the force around the slight figure. In the deepest sleep, a human could achieve. Ensign Turroo was twisted awkwardly over the small bunk; the blankets were in a bundled mess on the floor. 

Why was he even asleep? Vader caught sight of the Chrono and realized that it was 3:45 in the morning. It was well into his aides limited resting period. Vader felt faintly ridiculous to realize that he had been expecting his aide to be awake and ready to work at such an unreasonable hour. He’d already put the ensign through his paces this week. 

It struck the Sith how absurdly small the Ensign was. How he seemed impossibly young to be in such a position. Almost completely out of his depth and trying to keep his head above water. Since he was now committed to keeping the ridiculous child alive, Vader sighed to himself. 

He left the young Nubian to sleep and returned to his own chambers to catch what little sleep he could. 

#$#$#4

Thrawn had heard, along with the rest of the Imperial Navy, that Vader had finally chosen someone to serve as his aide. A young upstart, which rumor had it, had been conscripted for the exact purpose of becoming Vader’s aide. 

The file that was had of the boy said very little, though Thrawn had taken note of just how young the ensign was. 

He hadn’t anticipated just how small he was until he saw them standing next to each other. Vader, looming and imposing as always, stood at the head of the conference table. Beside him, was the infamous Ensign Demoins. He looked practically child-like next to Vader, his face still a bit round from baby fat and physically dwarfed by the Supreme Commander. 

Thrawn glanced at Eli Vanto, his own aide. The outer rim redhead was staring intently at Demoins, judging and calculating. Eli took great pride in being Thrawn’s aide, though he was given grief by some of the other officers for serving an alien. 

“A bit small, isn’t he?” Eli finally spoke up.

“I was thinking the exact thing,” Governor Pryce stepped to Thrawn’s side, nodding at the short officer. “Looks like a child. Are we sure he’s of age to be serving on a ship?” 

“His file says he of age.” Eli said, “he looks like my little brother’s best friend.”

“Why is there a high schooler next to Lord Vader?” General Halifax joined the group staring across the enormous conference room at Vader and his aide. “I didn’t realize it was bring your son to work day.” Pryce chuckled, and Thrawn glanced at Eli for clarification. 

“That is Ensign Demoins, Lord Vader personal aide.” 

“Bit young, isn’t he? What did he do to end up in such a position? Either something wonderful or very stupid.” 

“Something stupid I heard,” Pryce said. “Lord Vader arrested him at some fancy party. Apparently, he told him off. I didn’t think anyone did something that stupid unless he had a death wish.” 

“No,” Thrawn agreed quietly, “I would not have considered it.” They went quiet as the ensign turned to look at them. They disbanded a moment later as the final members arrived. 

#$#$#$

Being Lord Vader’s aide wasn’t much different than being a failing Jedi student of Obi-Wan Kenobi. He still had to follow a step behind, hand him things, remind him when there was a meeting, and generally keep quiet and out of the way. Except that working with Vader, Luke got paid actual money he could conceivably use to buy something he didn’t actually need or even what. He also got his own room that cleaning droids kept dusted, a refresher he didn’t have to share, and clothes he didn’t have to clean. 

It was a pretty good gig if Luke ignored that Vader was the embodiment of pure even and probably just waiting to kill him. Also, that Vader had murdered his father, and even if Luke didn’t like his father that much, there was still the principal of the matter. 

“Ensign,” Vader announced himself with his usual grace, which is to say, none at all. He pushed his way into the office sort of room that Luke used as his own. “A treaty is to be signed on Primo Vinexo. My presence is required.” 

“Yes, sir.” Primo Vinexo? Luke jolted to his feet on reflex. “What arrangements would you like?” 

“The usual,” Vader waved at him as if he didn’t care. Which he probably didn’t. “Your wardrobe will be waiting on Primo Vinexo, ensure that it is fitted and properly sized before you attend any of the civilian functions.” 

“Wardrobe?” Luke asked, forgetting for a second that interrupting the Sith had gotten him into some serious hot water once. 

Vader paused, “as I have told you before, ensign. You are now a member of my household, and I will not have you embarrassing me.” 

“Yes, sir.” Why did that mean he got a wardrobe? Didn’t that just mean that if he sneezed in public Vader would punt him through a window? “But a wardrobe?” 

“Do you question me, Ensign?” Luke felt pressure on his neck, he swallowed and shook his head. 

“Thank, sir. I appreciate the kind of generous gesture.” 

“You are knowledgeable in dance, Ensign?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“And the art of conversation?”

“I believe so.”

“Good, I would hate for you to make a fool of yourself.” With that ominous muttering, Vader was gone again, and Luke blinked at the door. Did he want him to charm someone? This seemed like too much effort for a Sith Lord to go through for merely an aide. Why as wardrobe? Eli Vanto didn’t get fancy clothes. If the disparity was the fact that Thrawn was only a military officer and Vader had both military and civilian power; then Luke could understand. Except that Vader was Vader and he didn’t do a thing like this. 

He barely paid attention to Luke one some days. Only giving him orders and expecting them to be obeyed. 

Why go through the effort of buying him extra clothes? Luke didn’t want to press his luck, but he was damn curious. His curiosity lasted up until he reached the planet of Primo Vinexo and the actual wardrobe was presented to him. 

For a moment Luke felt faint, and then he felt dizzy. None of these clothes belonged on an ensign. They were high fashion, fabric that was too expensive for Luke even to touch. Nothing on the rack of clothes seemed to be suited for someone of Luke’s position. They just weren’t.

“What?” Luke ran a hand down the edge one of the sleeves and turned to the waiting Sith Lord. “Lord Vader, these are very.” He didn’t want to say princely. He really didn’t, but they just were. 

“Yes?” Vader seemed to be waiting, as he always did when Luke was about to make a mistake. As always, Luke backed down. 

“Thank you, sir.” Someone tonight was going to make a mistake, and Luke sure hoped it wasn’t him. “They are very nice.” Very nice and very expensive. The sort of clothes you gave someone if you wanted something really big out of them or had very high expectations. Did Vader realize what he was doing? Did he even know how the others at this party would take this? 

“Be prepared and at my side at exactly 1900 hours. Do not be late. The rest of the arrangments for this farce of an evening will be handled by the palace staff.” 

“Yes, sir.” Luke had corresponded tirelessly the last few days with the steward of the palace. An overworked gentleman who had been furious at the idea that Luke thought he needed help. He had needed help and Luke hoped he’d given the man enough of a jump-start on the evening that it would go off without a hitch. 

No one had told him that being an aide also meant being an event planner. Luke watched the Sith storm off, wondering what the hell he was thinking. After a moment, he decided it didn’t really matter, and he went about choosing a suit to wear. 

“Rather nice clothes,” someone spoke up, and Luke turned. Standing just inside the door was an unfamiliar man. A captain with a graying head of hair and deep purple bruises under his eyes. 

“Sir?” Luke gave a courteous nod as the man stepped into the room. The staff scattered to a respectful distance and the rebel spy swallowed. 

“When I suggested to Lord Vader that he take you on as an aide, I believe he may have done that and more.” 

“I don’t understand. You suggested to Lord Vader?” Luke felt his stomach drop out of his torso. “Piett!” 

“Captain Piett, thank you.” 

“I didn’t recognize you,” Luke reflexively rubbed the back of his head, a bit embarrassed. Piett smiled and nodded at the racks of clothes. 

“You seem to have settled into your new role effortlessly.” 

“There have been a few bumps,” Luke disagreed quietly. “Sir, why did you recommend me for this position?” 

“Partly because you annoyed me,” Piett told him honestly. “Wealthy and idle and I thought a subservient role would suit you.” 

Luke blinked and briefly imagined strangling the man with his bare hands and then throwing him off a very, very, very high cliff. 

“You are mistaken, sir,” Luke managed through gritted teeth. Piett looked briefly startled. “But I thank you for the fact that you have removed any independent choices I might have faced. With such,” Luke tried to hide his rising fury, “hardships removed then I am sure I will settle in for a comfortable life. Well, what remains of it. Since I don’t qualify for a retirement plan and I’m sure I won’t even need to think about it.”

“You insulted me,” Piett snapped, straightening up and glaring back with just as much animosity.

“I said something that annoyed you,” Luke jabbed hand a Piett, not realizing how he copied Vader’s own favored gesture. “And you chose to take it personally. If you hadn’t been so petty.” 

“Petty! Ensign Demoins! I am your superior officer!” Startled by the turn of the conversation, Piett tried to look intimidating and failed miserably. 

“No,” Luke eyed the man with as much rebel distaste and insolence as he could. “Merely a higher ranking one. Now, I have to get ready for this ball. Excuse me.” Luke seized the first suit and tossed it over his shoulder and stormed away. When he slammed the dressing room door behind him, he finally began to shake. He wasn’t sure what made him more upset. The fact that Piett had been pettier than Vader that evening, or the fact that he would definitely tell on him to the Sith. Vader had been explicitly clear on Luke’s behavior and the consequences of failure. He sat on the bench heavily and wondered what would happen. 

His hands were shaking, and he stuck them under his legs to keep them still. Breathe, he reminded himself, running through the breathing exercises that Obi-Wan had taught him so long ago. Back when his only worry was wondering why his Force sensitivity hadn’t manifested itself, and if he’d ever be as good of a Jedi as his father. 

He had considered himself immune to fearing death, but apparently not. Plus, Vader probably wouldn’t be content just to kill him. There was a high likelihood that Luke would get his face kicked in first. 

“Ensign Demoins?” The door rattled, “are you alright in there?”

“Yeah!” Luke shot to his feet. “I’m fine!” 

“You’ve been in there a while, and you need to get ready if you’re going to make your deadline with Lord Vader.”

“Thank you,” Luke answered and unzipped the protective covering on the suit and began to undress. “I’ll be out in a minute.” Thankfully, he made it to Lord Vader’s side just in time. He ignored the curious looks from the other Imperials and settled into a parade-rest stance behind the Sith. Vader didn’t turn to acknowledge him; his attention was focused on the King of Primo Vinexo. 

“This treat will be a great benefit for both Primo Vinexo as well as the Empire,” the King smiled tightly at the Sith words. Luke sympathized, but not that much. At least Primo Vinexo was mostly human and rich. The Empire wouldn’t bother them too much. “It is fortunate that you have seen the light, highness.” 

“Yes,” the man nodded at the assembling party-goers in the ballroom. “Since that nasty business with the Separatists a few years ago.” The king nodded at the maestro and the music swelled. “Onto business then.” 

Luke watched the proceedings carefully. The only people happy with the whole mess were the Imperials. No one from the Primo Vinexo royal family looked happy, and the nobles from the planet were downright unpleasant looking. He sighed silently and hoped the entire event didn’t get bombed. 

As soon as the treaty signing was over, and the necessary pictures had been taken, and Luke was free until the shuttle took off; he made a beeline for the garden that had been set up with twinkle lights and illuminated garden paths. It was a beautiful garden, and he took a deep breath of the flower-scented air and sighed happily. At least before he died, he’d get the chance to see flowers again. 

He was halfway through his walk of the garden when he heard a gaggle of voices approaching. 

“I don’t care if he’s only got a few hours on the planet! I’m not sleeping with him just because he’s pathetic!” Luke stared at the hedge and wondered how the girl had been talking about. 

“Imperial officers are disgusting. Just waltzing into the room as if they’re the most handsome men there! Well, they aren’t. Their uniforms are bland, and they’re disgusting.” Another voice chimed in. Luke nodded in agreement. “Come on! Just who do they think they are? I don’t care if he’s an admiral, I’m not going to kiss him for that! He’s wearing a wedding ring!” Luke shook his head and moved away from the hedge and took off for a different section of the garden. He didn’t care to listen to this much gossip. 

Luke was halfway through considering making his escape through the garden hedges while pretending to be engrossed in a flowering vine when the group of girls made their appearance. All five of them were tall, and pretty, wearing expensive gowns, and unhappy frowns. 

“What are you doing here?” The first one demanded, she wore the only hair ornament, and Luke identified her as one of the princesses. 

“Looking that the flowers, your highness.” Luke offered a low bow. 

“Looking at the flowers?” She sounded skeptical.

“Yes,” Luke glanced back at the vine, “would you like me to leave?” 

“Maybe,” the princess took a few haughty steps closer. “Which ones do you like the most?” 

“Of the flowers?” 

“Yes.” 

“The Naboo roses,” Luke gestured to the enormous bush of red and white roses that made up the centerpiece of this section of the garden. “I’m from Naboo, so it’s almost like a bit of home.” 

“Naboo? Which house?” 

“None of them,” Luke replied, one of the girls giggled. He flushed with embarrassment. “I’m only an aide.” 

“Well, if you like flowers then you can’t be so bad.” 

“I try not to be,” Luke answered, and the princess laughed. 

“Do you dance?” 

“When I’m asked.” 

“You are avoiding the party. How can anyone ask you?”

“That’s the idea.” 

“Well, then come dance with me.” She held out a hand; the girls stared at them. Luke blushed again. 

“Princess.”

“Come on. I don’t bite.” 

“Are you sure you want to dance? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” Her smile broadened. 

“Please?” 

“As you wish.” Luke took her offered hand and followed her back to the glittering palace. 

“What is your name, Ensign?” 

“Turroo Demoins, Princess.” 

“Ah, that is a very Naboo name. Almost as Naboo as Padme? Do you know her family?” 

“I can’t say that I’ve had the pleasure,” Luke answered honestly, “the Naberrie family runs in very exclusive circles. Though, their community outreach programs have always been helpful.” 

“A shame, I’ve heard they’re a wonderful family,” the princess mused. Luke watched the flowers, savoring their details. 

“You have a beautiful garden,” he ventured. Someone behind them laughed. The princess looked around and glared them into silence. 

“Thank you. Do you like gardening or do you just like admiring them?” 

“Both, I think. I like small little plants from desert planets. They don’t need much watering, and they flower about once a year.” 

“Are the flowers nice?” 

“Yes, usually very bright and they die back down after about two weeks. For two weeks you can get a whole yard of white and purple blooms.” 

“Yard? Did you live on a desert planet?” 

“A few actually,” Luke swallowed as they climbed the steps toward the doors. A few of the other party-goers standing around watched their procession quietly. Luke watched as General Veers raised his eyebrows and smirked. “Have you ever visited one?” 

“No,” the princess gestured for the doors to be opened before her. The doormen obeyed, swinging them open and she led him into a ballroom. 

Vader, waiting impatiently for the moment that he would no longer be needed, noticed immediately when the music changed from the gentle background music to skipping waltzes. He watched dispassionately as the oldest princess and Ensign Demoins twirled onto the dance floor. Surprise filtered through his apathy as the boy swung into the dance with the sort of confidence and self-assurance that he hadn’t had since the party when he’d insulted Vader. 

In fact, Demoins danced with an exceeding amount of grace and poise, and with the sort of gentlemanly air that made girls and the inclined boys swoon. They made a handsome pair, and by the time the piece died down, and the princess completed her last twirl, there was a line of chattering ladies of court obviously wanting a turn. Vader sighed as he turned to the waiting general.

 

Laughter erupted from the dance floor. Demoins newest partner had tripped and stepped on his toes. Both were laughing, and he helped her to her feet. Their dance went smoothly, and the party moved back into the full swing. 

#$#$#$

Luke wished that the evening could have gone on forever. As long as he ignored the mounting threat of death for his insult to Captain Piett, it had been a lovely night. He cradled the small plant to his chest for a moment before setting it down on the empty shelving unit. It was the only thing of significant color in the entire room. A gift from the princess who had apparently been charmed enough to offer Luke a return visit. He had suffered the shuttle trip back in silence as the high ranking officers exchanged knowing glances around him. No one had said anything, which was his only saving grace. So far Vader hadn’t said anything about his conversation with Piett. Luke was just about to change into his pajamas when his comm chimed. 

His heart sank, and he tried to comfort himself over the fact that his last day had at least been a pleasant one. He gave the potted plant one last pat before heading to the office down the hall. Vader wasn’t waiting beside his desk, but by the viewport and staring out at the beautiful stars beyond. 

“You wanted to see me, sir?” Luke waited a few steps away, tucking his hands behind his back. 

“Yes,” Vader waved for Luke to join him at the window. Nervously, he obeyed and paused at the Sith Lords side. He was quiet for a moment, and Luke kept thinking back to his new plant. “Princess Sandow made an impressive offer for your hand.” 

“In marriage?” Luke gasped, turning to the man and staring shamelessly. “What?”

“Yes, a very impressive offer.”

“We spoke for ten minutes! I didn’t,” Luke glanced around. “I don’t want to get married! I don’t want to.” 

“Be quiet,” Vader ordered. Luke fell silent; he tried to think of a way out of the mess. “I declined.” He heaved an audible sigh of relief. “Fortunately, they have not taken offense and have asked me to relay King Primo’s wish for you attend to their family so they may all meet you.” 

“That is very flattering,” Luke swallowed. “Erm.” 

“You are an attractive young man, connected to a powerful house of the Imperial court. Expect such offers like this in the future.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Furthermore, I spoke with Captain Piett this evening.” 

This was it. Luke felt his whole body freeze as Vader turned his impassive mask toward him. The Sith was going to kill him, and then he wouldn’t have to worry about sleeping through his alarm clock again. 

“Captain Piett has my favor, Ensign. You do not. I believe I made myself explicitly clear as to the consequences of failure.”

“Yes, sir.”

“What exactly did I say?” 

“That they would unpleasant and painful.” Luke swallowed a bit as the Sith turned properly to face him. “Sir.” 

“Do you have an excuse to offer?” The spy shook his head, feeling stupidly like a student called into the principal's office. 

“Very well,” the sith moved, and Luke flinched only to see the man point to his desk. Luke stared between the pointing hand and the book on the table. He moved to get it and stared down at the book with mounting dismay. 

“The Social and Political Culture of Mandalore before and after the Sith Wars.” Luke gaped. 

“I expect a full report of the first chapter in two months.” Luke flipped open the book, which was big enough to brain a bantha with, and almost wished he’d been strangled. The whole thing was going to be a nightmare to deal with, and this book was the sort only the stupidly bored read when they wanted to be smug and pretend that they were intelligent. 

“Yes, sir.” Luke gathered up the book, and Vader dismissed him with a motion. He retreated back to his room and ate a square of chocolate before finally going to bed. The enormous book was set on the shelf beside his new potted plant. 

#$#$#$#$

Obi-Wan reviewed the footage once, a second time, and then a third time to try and understand what he was seeing. 

Luke Skywalker was alive and well and apparently well-fed. He stood a few steps being Darth Vader, wearing clothes that best suited a prince. Luke, with false eye color plants and dyed hair, still looked intimately recognizable by the man who had raised him. 

His stomach had turned to a pack of ice some time ago. Seeing Luke standing so close to the Sith. Seeing Luke anywhere near the Sith. 

He watched the treaty signing slowly, keeping an eye on the boy in the background. None of the other rebel commanders seemed to have understood what they were seeing. A potential heir to the throne, or just an aide that Vader had clearly spent a great deal of money on. 

He wondered if he should tell them.   
No, he tucked the holo away and sighed to himself. He would simply take care of it himself. 

#$#$#$

At the point Luke had reached five pages into the book of old Mandalorian politics, he wished Vader had spaced him or something. Nothing could be worse than puzzling through the ancient and pretentious words of a court recorder. It was pure academic writing, with words that Luke had to look up the meaning of every few sentences. When he did understand the words, he still had to go back and puzzle through the meaning of the sentence it was in; which was so convoluted and over- flowery that it took another five minutes of research to understand it. 

Apparently, Vader didn’t need to beat someone down, strangle them, or space them, for his displeasure to be known. Assigning a book report might have been odd, but Luke was swearing and furiously confused just pages into it. 

Luke adjusted the pillow under his torso and flipped a few pages forward to the end of the chapter and heaved an unhappy sigh. As if he didn’t have enough work to do. A small beeping noise caught his attention, and a mouse-droid rolled out from beneath his bunk.

“Hey there,” Luke patted the small droid, and it zipped up to the book on the floor and seemed to inspect it. “I know, homework after I already graduated. I guess it’s better than getting my face kicked in.” It buzzed affectionately at him and rolled to cuddle into his side. “Thanks,” Luke yawned and let his head fall gently onto his collective notes and books. “This is exhausting.” 

He was so tired he didn’t even notice that he’d fallen asleep on the floor. When he woke up, the ship had fallen out of hyperspace, and there was a moon outside his viewport. Luke shook himself to rid the kinks from his back and yawned expansively. A moment later he looked at the moon and felt his stomach drop right through his boots. 

That was no moon. 

It was the size of a small moon, gunmetal gray and with part of it still skeletonized. With hundreds of ships flying in and around the structure as if they were bees. It didn’t even look real. Why were they building a metal moon? Luke stared, and his comm unit chimed. He changed as quickly as he could before meeting Vader in his office. 

“Review these documents from Director Krennic,” Vader dumped a hefty stack of documents in Luke’s hands. “I will be occupied with the construction directors as well as the engineers. When I return, I want these documents to be shorted and understandable in memo form.” 

“Yes, sir,” Luke said, juggling the stack of documents and staring again out of the window at the floating metal moon. “Do you want me to accompany you?” 

“No, this is beyond your clearance level.” Luke wondered bitterly about his non-existent clearance level. He’d never be useful to the rebellion like this. 

“Do you want your meeting with Admiral Ozzel moved back from 0800 to 1700 hours?” 

“Reschedule it for tomorrow.” Vader ordered, “1700 hours, as well as order a new set of training droids to be sent to my training quarters.”

“Yes, sir.” 

“When we are finished here I will be attending to the emperor. Have the shuttle prepared.” 

“Will I be going with you?”

“You will,” Vader turned toward the door, “prepare your luggage to be moved.” 

“Yes, sir.” The Sith was gone in a second, and Luke carried his new assignment to the small office quarters and dumped it down. Whatever the metal moon was, then the answers would be here. Whether Vader had intended to or not; he had just handed Luke his first real piece of intel. This had to be something the rebels needed to know about. 

He didn’t realize how hungry he was until a small droid trundled in with food, buzzing at him. “Oh!” Luke stood up and his knees cracked against the table. “Ow!” He sat back down and then the droid pushed the tray at him. “Thank you,” Luke picked the sandwich off the plate and ate it in three bites. He stared at his paperwork and privately cursed Krennic for his heavy-handed writing and his useless documents. Very few of them seemed to say anything. Project Stardust was the next big secret weapon, but what it was, Luke had no idea what it was. 

Was it an orbiting battle station? Like the control ships used during the war? It looked enormous enough to house hundreds and thousands of droids. Enough to take on a whole system of planets. Except that the Empire didn’t like using droids, and there wasn’t a sign of battle droids. 

“What are you?” He wondered and picked up the next document. For the last one, there had only been a line of correspondence between a man name Galen Erso and a group of engineers. The topic of discussion had been the necessity for a thermal exhaust port. After the conversation first brought up the need for an exhaust port, there had been about 200 messages about the exhaust port, and Director Krennic had been added as a recipient for each and every one. The exhaust port had been approved by the director in strong language that suggested if the subject was brought up again, he’d shoot them all. Well, a thermal exhaust port wasn’t enough to make anything seem less dangerous. With half a mind on his food, Luke dove back into the reports and read carefully. 

When it came to him, somewhere near the bottom of the stack, Luke finally realized what Project Stardust was. 

A battle station built to destroy planets. In the shipments of kyber crystal, the weapons array that was scheduled to be delivered in two weeks, then the smug assurance of a promotion that oozed from the documents in Luke’s hand. 

He felt frozen and chilled as he looked out the window. In the time he’d been working, the ship had orbited the station a few times. At the moment, Luke was staring directly at half-domed firing array. He shivered at the thought of its destructive capabilities. A planet, a whole planet. It seemed too ridiculous to be true, too insane to be possible. 

Yet, the Empire had sunk billions of credits into making it. Thousands of slaves, hundreds upon thousands of droids, and even more officers to observe it. 

How had they kept this a secret? ‘

Erso. Galen Erso. 

Luke yanked a document from the pile, sending the rest of the floor, and stared at the name. Galen Erso, Imperial Scientist. Apparently, the mastermind behind the battle station. 

He remembered a dark-haired girl that had followed Saw around when he was younger. Jyn Erso, Obi-Wan had said, another one of Saw’s violent radicals. 

A battle station, an orbiting battle station. Enough to destroy a planet. 

He had finally found something the rebels would want. But first, he had to find a way to get it to them. 

3$#$#4

Palpatine observed his apprentice with a critical eye before turning his amused attention on the young man behind him. A short one, his uniform almost comically small and his faced pinched with tiredness. 

“Come here,” he gestured for the boy. He hesitated, looking between the Sith and the Emperor. “Young one, come here.” Carefully, nervously, the young aide obeyed. Jerkily climbing the steps to the dais until he was just a few feet from the emperor. 

Luke, on his part, felt more confused than he had on a long time. The emperor was smaller than the stories had implied, with a wizened and hideous face that Luke tried not to look at. Still, he spoke with a familiar and almost grandfatherly tone. 

“Closer, closer,” seemingly calm, the Emperor smiled toothily at Luke when he reached the edge of his straight-backed throne. “Ah, a handsome young man. What is your name?”

“Turroo Demoins,” he answered carefully, “your majesty.” 

“A very Naboo name. My home planet you know. Beautiful this time of year.” 

“Yes, your majesty.” Luke had never actually been to Naboo. He wanted to go. To see the famed waterfalls and swim in an ocean deeper than anything else in the galaxy. 

“You know, you look so much like.” Luke nearly fell out of his skin when the Emperor gripped his chin and turned his head from side to side. He shook though, trembling under the dark attention. “An old friend of Lord Vader’s. Tell me, Lord Vader, does he not? A striking resemblance to the late senator Amidala?” Luke didn’t dare look back to see what Vader had done to make a light spark and break. 

“I’m sorry, your majesty,” Luke said slowly, “I don’t know this senator, but I’ve always been told I favor my father.”

“A coincidence,” the Emperor muttered under his breath, “to be sure.” He let him go, and Luke drew back as if he’d been branded. “Perhaps the reason you are still alive.” 

“I would like to credit my training for that, sire.” The emperor moved faster than Luke thought possible, leaning out of his seat and slapping the spy hard enough that he stumbled and then fell down the short staircase. He landed at Vader’s feet, his bottom lip split and his face burning. 

It might have been Luke’s confusion and shock, but he thought he saw Vader jerk toward him before stepping back again. The cold marble floor was almost a welcome relief to his face, but Luke pushed himself to his feet and shook his head. 

“I am sure that you will train him properly, Lord Vader.” The emperor waved them out, and Luke staggered after the Sith, holding onto his face and felt like crying. They made it quickly to the air-speeder that Luke had ordered brought to the palace, but Vader refused to let him fly. As it was, he was relegated to the front passenger seat. 

Luke prodded at his split lip and furiously blinked away tears. “Was it something I said?” Luke asked quietly, refusing to look at the Sith and knowing that one misstep might make the man throw him out the passenger window. 

“You said nothing inappropriate,” Vader said after a long moment. He guided the ship expertly through traffic. 

“I’m sorry,” Luke said, more of reflex than anything. It was his go to; it saved him every time. He only ever seemed to apologize. 

“There is no need to apologize,” Vader intoned, and he guided the ship into a nearly empty hanger bay. They sat in silence in the ship for several minutes. Luke held onto his face and tried to ignore the fact that he was crying. Eventually, Vader left, and Luke climbed down a few minutes later, feeling only a little bit guilty about ignoring his duties. He had a lot to do, but as he navigated the unfamiliar halls of the enormous palace, Luke felt better about it. 

Movement and noise caught his attention. Luke took a right and found himself in the kitchen where Darth Vader had found a med-pack. 

“Sit.” The Sith gestured at the table, and Luke froze. 

“Sir?” 

“Sit, Ensign. I will not tell you again.” Prompted by the tone, Luke gingerly took a seat on the edge of the table, and Vader produced a small wipe coated in bacta. He shivered at the impossibly gentle touch. Vader swiped the cloths over his cheek and then his lower lip. Luke was acutely aware of just how dangerous those hands could be. The only noise he could hear was the constant respirator and the hiss of his own breath when the bacta began to sting. “How goes your report?” 

“Report?” Luke blinked and nodded. “Oh, um. I have it finished except for final revisions, sir. Do you want it tonight?” 

“No.” That was the difference, Luke guessed. The Emperor had slapped him for whatever reason, and Vader had only assigned him an impossibly dense book to read. Maybe Vader wanted to draw attention to that fact? “Until this has healed, do not appear in public.”

“Sir?” 

“Remain in the residence,” Vader ordered, “continue to apply the bacta at regular intervals.” His face was too close, too close. His enormous hands all but cradled Luke’s head, he was too gentle, and Luke’s brain had stuttered to a halt a few minutes after the Emperor had slapped him. 

“May I ask why?” Luke finally ventured as Vader drew back after giving him a lingering pat the top of his head. 

“You are obviously injured,” Vader told him, “it would be unseemly for you to appear in public with such an injury.” 

“Yes, sir.” Luke’s life had been too weird in the last few months. He watched Vader leave and touched the patch on his face gently. 

It seemed like a waste of bacta to slather it on his face, but he wasn’t going to disagree. He brushed away the lingering tears, picked up his patches and tried to find where his room was. 

The room was situated, not near the lower levels of the palace, but on the upper floors where family and guests might stay. Luke noted the enormous room, an already prepared closet, and refresher, as well as small plants set up in an attractive display near the window. 

“Huh,” he sat on the bed, dropping his bag to the side. Anyone who saw this would think that Vader was planning something else for Luke. Not just to keep him as an aide. He shivered and touched his split lip again. 

Why had Vader kept him alive? Why had he not killed him the first time he’d made a mistake? Why had he bothered to cover up the bruise on his face?

Luke flopped back onto the bed and wondered if Vader didn’t have some alternate plan for him. 

#$#$3

Vader stewed in his hyperbaric chamber, furious and having already spent much of his anger on a set of unfortunate training droids. No doubt his master was cackling, pleased with himself and his manipulation of his apprentice. 

The only thing that kept his aide from becoming another victim of his temper was that the Emperor had noted his comparison to Padme as well. It relived him and infuriated him in equal measure. First, that he hadn’t been insane in seeing the comparison, and second that Palpatine had bothered to notice the aide at all. 

Demoins wasn’t like Padme at all. He was…he did look extraordinarily like her. The same hair color, eyes, and face, and if Vader looked long enough he could begin to see traits of Anakin Skywalker….

Vader shook his head vigorously to dislodge the thought. He had lost his mind completely. He hadn’t descended into madness to believe that someone who superficially looked like Padme would be her son. Besides, Demoins was a year too old to be her son, and their child would have been a girl.

He didn’t realize that he was outside the boy’s quarters until he had opened the door and was taking in the sight of his aide, still fully dressed and twisted into an awkward angle across the bed. The bruise on his face gleamed in the dim light of the skyline, even the shadows of his face were like Padme’s. 

Vader paused just inside the door, furious and found himself igniting his lightsaber before he realized what he was doing. He didn’t wake, only frowned in his sleep and continued to breath undisturbed. 

Not for long. 

Several wide steps took him to the bedside, until he could nearly touch the short brunette, his lightsaber angling down until the burning red edge rested an inch above his narrow throat. 

Turroo coughed and turned his head to the side, sighing. For the barest, most painful moment, he looked exactly as she had sprawled over the metal landing pad.

Vader withdrew his lightsaber in time to avoid allowing Turroo to slice off his hand as he adjusted his position on the bed. Scoffing at the nearly infantile way he moved, Vader switched off his saber and clipped it back to his belt. 

#$#$#

Luke woke up only when his comm unit buzzed his usually afternoon alarm, set to tell him when he was supposed to eat lunch, blared out insistent triple beeping he hated. 

“Oh, stars.” He opened his eyes and took a moment to hate everything in the universe. The hatred felt good, and he had the strength to finally sit up, and blinking gummy eyes at the room. Fabric pooled on his lap and Luke blinked a few more times to understand what he was looking at. 

He didn’t remember falling asleep in the middle of the bed. As much as he knew, he had fallen asleep on top of his blankets, not beneath them. The only logical conclusion was that someone had tucked him into bed. 

To save himself the horrible thought creeping up the back of his mind he assumed that he had pulled the blankets over himself at some point during the night. 

Since it was already early afternoon, and Vader seemed to have no use for him until his bruise faded, Luke wandered through the nearly empty residence. Given how silent and empty most of the building was, he felt more like a ghost. 

By mid-afternoon, he was sitting in the kitchen fixing himself some food when the door opened, and a familiar man walked through. Captain Piett paused as he caught sight of Luke kneading a bundle of dough. It wasn’t the baking that seemed to catch the man off-guard, it was the bright purple bruise the marred half of his face. The Emperor was stronger than he looked. 

“What happened to your face?” Piett demanded. “What did you do?” 

“I didn’t do anything!” Luke snapped, kneading all the harder. The flour puffed upward in a white cloud, covering his uniform and his face. 

“What happened to your face?” 

“I got slapped obviously,” he rolled his eyes, “what are you doing here?” 

“I am here to bring a report to Lord Vader. Where is he?” 

“I don’t know.” Luke turned around to plop the ball of dough into a fat bread pan. “He was gone when I woke up. I have three days off at the moment.” 

“I can understand him not wanting him to be seen in public with an aide that looks like that. Who slapped you?” Piett set his case on the table, watching as Luke shoved the bread in the oven and flipped the timer on. “Ensign.” 

“It was the Emperor.” Luke turned around in time to see the man’s mouth open in shock. “Are you going to ask what I did to deserve it?” 

“I cannot imagine in any circumstance that that would be an appropriate question,” Piett said cautiously. “How do you feel?”

“The bacta helps.” He brushed off his dusty hands and set about cleaning up the kitchen. Why Vader had the material and tools to cook with, he wasn’t sure. The organic staff was only here a few hours of the day. “I don’t know when Lord Vader will be returning to the residence, but if you’d like to wait there is an office he usually returns to.” He took off the apron and hung it up, turning back to the confused captain. “Why are you waiting here?” 

“You seem to be as lippy as ever.” 

“I’m technically off duty at the moment.” 

“That is no excuse to be disrespectful,” Piett pointed out, and Luke gave a non-committal shrug that seemed to infuriate the man. “Young man!” 

“I am not going to apologize,” Luke told him plainly, continuing his cleaning. He waited until he thought the Captain had stewed long enough, offering him a cup of tea. The response was clipped and angry, but Luke smiled politely through the exchange. It might be worth it to annoy the captain enough to report him to Vader, and Luke might be willing to slog through that damnable book if he ruffled the usually calm man’s feathers. Given the ugly glare directed his way, he had succeeded. 

#$#$#$

When they left Imperial Center a few days later Luke’s bruise had finally faded, and he had another plant to take to his shipboard collection. As he distracted himself with preparing for their arrival to Alderaan, he could only feel a mounting sense of relief as they left the miserable planet behind. 

His afternoon with Piett had been worth the assignments that the Sith had heaped on his head. Piett had left that afternoon, seething and covered in butter and flour. Luke maintained that it had been an accident and his innocence had been unbelieved. 

Still, he thought it might be worth it to make Piett suffer for Luke’s new position.

“Demoins!” He turned at the shout of Ozzel, grimacing to himself as the mustached man stomped to him. “Are the arrangements set for Alderaan?” 

“Yes, sir.” Holding an armful of datapads gave him an excuse to not salute, which Luke wasn’t sure he’d do anyway given how obnoxious the man was. “I sent you the shuttle schedule an hour ago.” 

“No, you didn’t!” Ozzel exclaimed, his tone implied that Luke didn’t have much of a chance before he tried to hit him. He really hoped that Vader returned soon. They were attracting attention. “I have to come all the way down here to get them myself.” 

“Did you check your Inter-Ship Communication Inbox?” Luke asked. 

Ozzel blinked one too many times, and Luke knew he hadn’t. “Of course, I did! You didn’t send them!” 

Before he could potentially insult the man, the chilling respirator sounded near Luke’s ear, and he glanced back at Vader to see to Sith looming. Luke swallowed nervously as a heavy hand landed on his shoulder. “Come.” 

“Yes, sir.” Luke babbled, following on the Sith’s heels and refusing to glance back at the fuming Admiral. When they were in the turbolift, Vader spoke. 

“You did send the shuttle schedules, didn’t you?” 

“Yes, sir.” Vader made a noise of irritation and Luke was only a little happier that he had been right. 

“When we reach Alderaan, remember who you represent, Demoins. This planet has long been suspected of Rebel sympathies; its royal family will be particularly hostile.”

“Yes, sir.” 

As it turned out, the royal family was cold and polite. No one spared Luke a glance, which he was grateful for, but the conversations between Vader and Bail Organa might have flash-frozen fish. The conversations were what Luke had expected. Subtle accusations that the Organa’s were involved in the rebellion, which they were and everyone knew it. Luke certainly did. He had seen Organa at several Alliance meetings in the past. He and Obi-Wan seemed to share a tragic and secret past. He wasn’t sure since the man hadn’t given him any details. 

“What are you doing?” Luke jerked around, feeling reflexively guilty despite not actually breaking any rules. The royal gardens were lined with guards and beautifully lit walk-ways that wove around the flowers and water-features. Part of his brain wondered why royal families seemed to have such enormously pointless gardens, but he wasn’t complaining. When he whirled around, Princess Leia Organa was glaring at him. Whatever manners she’d been able to summon for the earlier conference were gone, and Luke had the distinct feeling he was facing down an infuriated rancor. 

“Looking at the flowers!” He blurted, stumbling a step and watching her carefully. It had worked on the last princess he’d met. 

“Looking at the flowers? You expect me to believe that?” 

“You don’t have to,” Luke shot back, setting his hands on his hips, echoing the princess’s pose. “I was.” 

“Hmph,” she tossed her head, “You may be, but why?” 

“The royal garden of Alderaan is said to be one of the most beautiful in the galaxy.” 

Leia preened and nodded at him. “That is true.” 

“Aren’t, you going to miss them when you go to Imperial Center as the Senator?” 

“I am, but the Alderaan embassy had its own conservatory.” Luke felt a brief and ugly stab of jealousy. 

“Days of leisure I’m sure,” Luke said. 

“Not for me. I intend to get started on work right away.” She turned to the gardens nodding to herself. Luke wanted to be excited for her. To feel a measure of hope and excitement, but he only felt cynical and depressed. He had been around Imperials too long, and it showed. With a sigh, he popped open his collar and pulled off his outer jacket. A moment later he pulled off his jacket and settled onto a patch of grass. “What are you doing?” Leia didn’t step off the path but watched Luke cross his legs and adopted a simple meditation pose. 

“I’m trying to clear my head,” Luke answered. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Unlike Obi-Wan, Kanan, or Ezra, he couldn’t sink into the Force and feel the universe around him. He couldn’t feel the power that came with it. He could only feel his body, hear the princess breathing, the animals moving, the wind, and the noises that drifted from the palace. 

“Why?” 

“I’ve been feeling bitter lately,” he told her honestly. “And angry, and I’m just trying to feel a little better.” He took a slow breath.

“That helps you feel better?” 

“Sometimes,” he answered. He thought about Biggs Darklighter and that little prayer he’d taught him. Luke wasn’t one to pray, but. 

“How?” 

“Princess,” Luke opened his eyes and frowned at the brunette. “It only works when I can focus and think in silence.” 

“That must take you a great deal of time then.” 

“I manage,” he said coolly. The princess smiled tightly, and they glared at each other for a moment. “What is it that you need?”

“Nothing, if you’re going to be rude.” He rolled his eyes. “But how did you come to be Lord Vader’s aide?” 

“Why do you want to know?” Luke asked.

“You have been working with him for a while, and you’re still alive. From what I’ve heard the longevity of his aides is usually?” 

“Non-existent?” 

“A polite way to put it.” 

“Not a polite way to start a conversation though. I stand in the footprints of dead men, and that fact lives with me every day.” 

“Do you like your position?” 

“Like it?” No one had ever asked if he liked it. “Do you like your position as princess and future queen?” His question seemed to surprise her because she didn’t answer right away. 

“I have a duty to my people,” she answered somewhat bitingly as if he’d insulted her. “And I will carry along the traditions of Alderaan, despite Imperial interference.” 

“That sounds a lot less like you want to do it, and more like you’re going to do it because you have a job.” Luke wasn’t trying to be argumentative, but he must have touched a nerve with the princess. 

“I am honored to be the future queen of Alderaan. I am not going to be one of the.” 

“I’m not saying you’re not,” Luke held up his hands, “and I’m sure everyone is very proud of you, but it sounds like you’re doing it because of duty, and not because you want to. Me? I’m here because I said something stupid to Lord Vader at a dinner party a year and a half ago.” The tidbit of information was enough to have the princess change focus. 

“A party? What did you do?” 

“I insulted him,” Luke smiled faintly at the memory. “And something I said annoyed an officer who was present at the time. I didn’t do,” he paused, “they arrested me that night, and before I knew it I was on my way to a training academy.” 

“That is not legal! You can’t just forcibly conscript someone for being rude!” 

“They can, and they did.” Luke wondered at the outrage plain on her face. “It’s not so bad.”

“It’s illegal, and who is petty enough to ruin your life for a small insult.”

“You’d be surprised,” Luke told her.

“No, no I really wouldn’t.” Leia set her hands on her hips, pacing around him. “Your family must be worried sick! What about your mother and father?” 

“Ah,” Luke twisted his hands together and looked away. 

“Demoins?” 

“I don’t have a family to miss me,” Luke said, thinking about Obi-Wan and wondering if the man had even noticed he was missing. Had any of them noticed he was missing? Maybe the specters, and maybe Saw would notice the traitor Jedi’s son wasn’t there anymore. 

“Are you alright?” Luke blinked rapidly, not realized that tears had begun to wet his eyes. Princess Leia sat down next to him. “Demoins? What?”

“I don’t have a family to miss me,” Luke said again, knowing that his voice was too high to be normal. His throat felt tight and painful, and he buried his face in his hands to avoid making a scene. “It doesn’t matter because there isn’t anyone to miss me and I’m.” The distant, detached part of his mind wondered if he was going insane telling the princess all of this. 

“I’m sorry,” Leia leaned over, throwing an arm off his shoulders. “I shouldn’t have said anything. What’s wrong?”

Luke tired in vain to push the feelings away, to crush the emotions that threatened, but their intensity was overwhelming and agonizing. The dam in his chest was breaking, and he wasn’t sure he could keep himself stable enough to go somewhere private to cry. The pressure on his shoulders was too much, the smell of the garden was too much. Everything was too much. He pulled away from the princess, tears already leaking from his eyes and his lips trembled. 

“I’m sorry,” he gasped, pushing her away. “I’m not going to.” To his surprise, Princess Leia seized his arms and yanked him back to the ground. 

“Sit down and talk to me,” she pressed a handkerchief into his hand. “What’s wrong. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“You didn’t,” Luke blubbered into the scrap of fabric, hating how pathetic he sounded. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to start crying.” 

“You don’t have to apologize,” Leia said, alarmed by the turnaround of their conversation. “What’s wrong?” 

Luke tried to speak, but the strength of his crying refused to allow the formation of works. His breath came out in noisy, agonizing gasps and tears spilled down his cheeks. He was only aware that she patting his back when he caught his breath and managed to look around him. He continued to gasp and brushed off his face until he felt a little more in control. 

“Demoins?” 

“Yeah?” He sniffed, blowing his nose on the handkerchief, sniffling as he examined the damp bit of fabric with a depressed sigh. “Sorry for losing control like that. That literally never happens. I don’t know what happened.” 

“We were talking about family,” Leia tried softly, “and I think I said something to upset you.” 

“You didn’t upset me,” Luke promised, “I was just feeling a little sensitive. I’m not used to just. You surprised me, that’s all.” 

“I surprised you? How?” Luke felt his tears threaten to make a return, he rubbed his nose clear of snot and tried to laugh. It sounded hollow to his own ears. 

“Um, I don’t want to talk about it.” 

“Alright,” she drew back, and tucked her hands into her lap, watching as Luke pulled himself together. 

“You asked about my family,” Luke managed, “and I don’t really. It was hard to.” His words trailed off, and he looked away. “I don’t have anyone who misses me.” 

“I’m so sorry!” If he was being honest, her sincerity was the most shocking thing that happened all day. “I didn’t mean to.” 

“It wasn’t your fault, and you couldn’t have known.” Luke smiled at her, knowing his eyes were puffy and red, and his face was blotchy and ugly. Embarrassed, he looked away. “Thanks for the tissue.” 

“You’re welcome,” she paused, “do you want to get some tea?” 

“Tea?” 

“When I’m upset I always get tea. Come on,” she smiled at him, holding out a hand and dragging him toward the palace. “It’s late, so it shouldn’t be too much trouble to get some tea.” 

“I’m not sure,” Luke tried, but Leia dragged him through the palace, avoiding the guards and soldiers until they were in a large and early empty kitchen. Droids powered down, and silently stood in the corner. Princess Leia gestured for him to sit at the work table and began assembling the supplies for tea. “Are we allowed to do this?” 

“This is my home,” Leia told him, “I can do what I please. What kind of tea do you like?” 

“Hot and sweet,” Luke sighed and moved to the sink to wash off his face. “Why are you doing this?” 

“You don’t seem half-bad for an Imperial officer,” the princess said, “and I felt bad for making you cry.” She paused, setting down the cup with deliberate slowness. “I don’t think; I didn’t think, well. I was surprised you started crying at all. I haven’t seen a man cry in years.” 

“Their loss,” Luke warbled, patting his face dry with a towel. “Really clears out your sewage system of bad feelings.” 

“Do you feel better?” 

“A little, guess the last thing I needed was meditation.” 

“Sounds like,” she handed him a cup full of tea. 

“I don’t even,” Luke sighed, “can you cry for what you’ve never had? I don’t even know why it hurts. I’ve had years and years to get used to it, and here I am. Crying my eyes out because I can’t.”

“You’re very stupid for someone who is so smart.” 

“Hey!” Luke protested halfheartedly, “I’m not stupid.” 

“Being lonely hurts worse sometimes,” Leia told him. 

“There a hole and nothing to fill it.” He sipped his tea. “I grew up moving around a lot, and I was surrounded by adults so much and so often. There were hardly any kids my age.” 

“I never moved much, but I know what it’s like to not have any kids my age around.” Leia sighed into her cup. “Even now.”

“I’m the youngest of my kind,” Luke told her, “I’m the youngest aide, I’m the youngest one on the ship. Even if there were people my age, I wouldn’t be allowed to be friends with them.” 

“Friends,” Leia scoffed. Luke nodded. 

“You know,” Luke folded over the counter, sighing into the marble. The kitchen around them was quiet, only the faint clicking of machinery was heard. “I don’t think he even liked me.” She waited for him to continue. “I was just a burden after a certain point.” He tilted the mug back and forth. “Not that I’d ever want to admit it until now. Lying is easier than facing the truth.”

“That’s awful.” Unlike the pity he might have gotten from anyone else, Princess Leia looked angry. Angry on his behalf, and he smiled. “Can I ask?”

“It’s not a very interesting story,” Luke muttered.

“Do you know who your biological family is?”

“They’re dead. I was raised by my father’s brother.” 

“Your uncle?”

“Not really,” Luke kicked at the table. “Just, him and people who moved in and out of our lives. He wanted me to be just like him. Just like my father and I couldn’t.” 

“Oh.” 

“I couldn’t be just like my father,” his voice choked up again, and he felt tears begin to slip from his eyes. “I couldn’t be like him at all, and that’s all they wanted me to be. A mini him and I couldn’t.” Ignoring his tea, he pressed his hands against his eyes, feeling the tears begin to burn. “I couldn’t be anyone, but me and they hated me for it. They abandoned me for someone else who could. Like I was just.” Luke hiccupped out a sob. “Like I was just trash!”

The princess didn’t say anything, but reached across the table and patted the top of his head as he was racked with noiseless sobs. He couldn’t remember a time when he had felt this breakable, this vulnerable. The fact that he was right in front of one of the people Lord Vader hated the most was not helpful. It felt like he cried until he was wrung dry, every tear having been squeezed out of him, and when he finally caught his breath, he felt a headache lurking in the back of his head. His sleeves were soaking wet, and Leia had finished her first cup of tea and was half-way done with her second. Her eyes were worried but calm, and Luke closed his eyes to avoid looking at her. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“You don’t have to apologize.” 

“Right,” he made his way back to sink, washing his face a second time as he tried to keep himself from falling over. 

“You need friends,” the princess observed. Her cup clicked against the table as she drained it. 

“I do have some,” Luke admitted, “um, what are you doing?” She came around the table and wrapped her arms around his waist. 

“I’m hugging you,” she told him, “I’m your friend now.” 

“That’s not a good idea.” He tried to get her arms off him, pushing her back. “You can’t be friends with me. My direct commanding officer is Darth Vader! He hates Alderaan and everyone on it. I can’t be friends with its future queen.” 

“You need a friend,” Leia told him firmly, undeterred. “And we’re going to be friends.” 

“You won’t like me,” Luke told her, “I cry a lot when I’m upset.”

“Welcome to living.” 

“I work for Darth Vader.” 

“You arrange his afternoon tea,” The princess rolled her eyes and yanked Luke back into a hug. She wasn’t much shorter than him, and he leaned into it. 

“It could be faking it, so you think I’m pathetic and pitiable and then when we’re friends I’m going to betray you to my commander.” 

“You are pretty pathetic,” Leia agreed, smiling. Luke scoffed and accepted a fresh cup of tea. “And I know liars. I know liars very well, and you are not a liar.” Luke pulled away, looking at the well and thinking of his secret rendezvous with various spies and criminals across the galaxy. He thought about the rebels and how the princess was involved. And boy was she involved. The ties to the rebellion were here, and he knew where to look. 

“I am not a good friend,” he told her. If the Alderaan conglomerate of the rebellion was destroyed, there would be no hope of getting rid of the Empire. “I won’t be a good friend.” 

“You don’t know that,” Leia answered, patting his back. “And I’ve made up my mind.” 

“Alright,” Luke hoped he hadn’t doomed them all. “We’re friends.” 

Leia smiled, this time it was a real smile. “Now, how long are you here for?” 

“A few days, why?” 

“Maybe you should see a doctor.” 

“I’m not sick.” 

“Not for being sick, Turroo. You seem like you need help and I doubt that the Empire is the place to get it.” 

“Hey!” He said more for show than meaning. He’d heard disturbing rumors that officers in delicate positions had their therapy sessions used as blackmail. At the moment it was just a rumor, but he wasn’t willing to take the risk. 

“Well.” 

“I’m fine. “

“You’re really not,” Leia told him. Luke shrugged and went back to the kettle to prepare himself a fresh cup of tea. 

“Is this was friends do? Tell one to go to therapy?”

“I don’t know. I don’t have friends my age and my servants and staff don’t really count. They are my friends,” she rushed to clarify, “and I love every single one of them, but when you’re supposed to be preparing for a crown and political officer, there is always something that keeps you apart from your staff.” 

“It’s the feeling of making friends with the boss,” Luke told her, “you don’t want to press your luck.” 

“You know the feeling.”

“I know of it,” Luke watched the princess dig through the cabinets to find herself a snack. “I only work for one person technically. I can make friends with people on planets we visit, but we both know that if I come back it's with Lord Vader and no one really wants that.” Ezra could have been a friend, but he was busy with his Jedi training. 

“I understand that.” Leia shot him a grin and produced an enormous slab of cake in protective wrapping. Luke felt his mouth water at sight. “Like?” 

“I love sweets,” he looked around for some forks. “I have the absolute worst sweet tooth. My mentor at the academy gave me a box of chocolates before I left for the ship. He used to bribe me into not being a smartass.” 

“I thought the academies had lots of unpleasant methods for that.” 

“They sure do, but I was technically under Lord Vader’s protection. They didn’t dare.” He handed her a fork as she unwrapped the cake. 

“What does chocolate taste like?” 

“Heaven. Your planet doesn’t have the climate for the beans it comes from, but it is the best and most sweet thing in history. It is the best. I wish I’d brought some with me so that you could try some.” 

“I like this,” Leia pointed to the cake, “Alderaan specialty. There is no cake like it.” 

“I’ve seen these for sale at those restaurants on some of the rich planets we’ve visited, and I’m supposed to help one of the other officers. It always looks delicious.”

“Try it,” she urged. Luke raised his eyebrows as he dug a bite out. “Well.” 

Luke smiled, something unfamiliar bloomed in his chest. “It is perfect.” He told the princess. She beamed. “Just like I’d always thought.” 

“Good, now you’re spoiled for life.” 

“I can live with that.” Luke took another bite. “This is pretty good.” 

“But?” 

“But what? I said it was pretty good.” 

“But you’ve had something better?” 

“Look,” he pointed the fork at her, “There is nothing that beats Aunt Ima’s pancake cakes. She is magic.”

“No one makes food better than aunts,” Leia agreed, “but that’s what I’ve heard. My aunts don’t cook.” 

“Do you cook?”

“I have no idea how.” She glowered when Luke smirked. “Do you cook?” 

“Of course, I know how to cook. I can cook just about anything.” 

“Prove it.” Leia shrugged at the room, “we’re in a kitchen. Prove it.” 

“You want me to prove that I can cook?” 

“Why not, you seem pretty smug about your skill.” 

“Fine,” Luke took a larger bite of the cake and cast his gaze around the room. “What do you want to eat?” 

“Surprise me,” Leia smirked as Luke stepped back.

#$#$#$

Bail Organa almost didn’t believe the report his captain of security gave him. Except that the man would have no reason to lie and didn’t have enough of a sense of humor to lie like this. 

“Are you sure?” He asked the captain. Antilles nodded. “Well, don’t interrupt, I’ll go see to it.” He made his way down to the kitchen proper, duly impressed by the audacity of Vader’s aide. No one who had visited the planet in the last few years had dared approach his daughter without wearing a full-blown hazmat suit and leading a bomb squad. Leia was a force of nature and not to be reckoned with. It seemed that his captain's assessment had been correct. Leis and the aide were in the kitchen, and he stuck his head around the corner just in time to see the young man flip a spotted pancake with a dramatic flair. His eyebrows shot up as Leia clapped. 

“This isn’t the cooking channel!” Leia exclaimed, “show me some real skill!” 

“I am!” The aide replied, he picked up a plate and spun it between his fingers. “You just don’t appreciate how hard it is to learn how to make that look effortless. I worked in several diners before, and I promise you it isn’t easy!” 

“Excuses!” Leia proclaimed, and they both laughed. Bail stepped into his kitchen and nearly laughed out loud. The young aid, Demoins was still wearing his uniform with a brightly patterned apron tied over it. Flour dusted the tops of his boots and nose; his sleeves were rolled up past his elbows, and he held a skillet in one hand and a spatula in the other. Leia had a plate of pancakes in front of her, as well as several bowls of sauces. Dirty pots and pans were piled in the dishwasher with professional skill. “Aren’t you almost out of batter?” 

“One last one, then I’m clean out,” Demoins told her. Bail felt his chest tighten at the sighed. Leia is making friends with Vader’s aide, but Bail had long ago learned that trying to take away something his daughter wanted to be ended very poorly. All in all, the young man seemed kind enough and certainly hadn’t run screaming from her. “Then you can waddle onto the bed, princess. Hopefully, you can still fit into your clothes.”

“You’re the one feeding me this stuff! If I can’t fit into my clothes tomorrow, then I’m siccing the palace dietician on you.” 

“What is he going to do,” Demoins stuck his tongue out as he poured batter onto the skillet. “feed me vegetables until I croak?” 

“Yes,” Leia bit into her pancake. “Forcibly, with a screwdriver.” The young man laughed, and Bail finally cleared his throat. Their startled, wary glances combined with the instinctive guilt on their faces was almost enough to make him burst into laughter. “Father!” Her voice was oddly pitched, and the aide had stopped moving completely.

“This seems to be where the party is.” 

“Father!” Leia sat up, eyes going wide and flickering over to Demoins. 

“Senator!” Demoins flushed at his smile. “My apologies, sir. I’ll be going.” 

“There’s no need to rush,” Bail recognized the crushed happiness in both young adults. He felt bad enough for startling them. “I only wanted to investigate that delicious smell.” 

“I, um, I.” The young man blushed and looked from Leia back to him. “I made pancakes, sir. Would you like one?” 

“I would,” Bail entered the kitchen, waving his guards back. “What kind?” 

“I made them a plain, sir. I made a few sauces to go over them if you wanted. Erm,” he turned back to the stove top, apparently overwhelmed by the attention. Bail smiled at his daughter who had the grace to look somewhat shamefaced. 

“Which one is the best?” 

“Here,” Leia handed him a bowl of soft purple sauce. “I think this one works best.” 

“Might I ask why I have an Imperial officer in my kitchen making pancakes so late in the evening?” He smiled at Leia, who refused to meet his eyes.

“I’m sorry, Senator. I was just. Well.” 

“We were.” Leia tried to answer. 

“There was.” 

“An answer might work better than muttering,” he told them, and Leia glared at him over the rim of her glass. 

“I wanted to prove that I could cook, sir.” The boy flipped the pancake, not turning around. 

“Leia?” 

“I said he could!”

“And you can, young man.” Bail told him. “These are delicious.” 

“Thank you, sir. I’m glad you like them.” 

“I don’t suppose you’re seeking alternative employment any time soon?” 

“No, sir.” The boy glanced back at him, a self-deprecating gleam in his eye. “I don’t think that Lord Vader would let me go.” 

“Perhaps not,” he thought about the rumors he’d heard of the young man in front of him. There were so many in the royal politics these days, and he couldn’t have been aware of them. 

“Would you like the recipe?” He offered, and Bail nodded. 

“That would be appreciated,” he polished off another pancake and checked his chrono while the young man finished stacking the dishes in the dishwater and turned it on. “You’re very at home in a kitchen.” 

“I was always told I’d make a good husband one day!” Demoins beamed, “and I’ve had offers. Thankfully Lord Vader turned them all down.” 

“People want to marry you?” Leia demanded, affecting shock. “They must not know you.” 

“I’ll have you know,” the boy pointed at her with a motion that reminded Bail sharply of Vader. “That some people actually like me.” 

“I don’t see it.” 

“And here I thought Alderaan had the best healthcare in the galaxy,” he wrinkled his nose and pulled a folded piece of flimsy from his pocket. “Might want to get that checked out, Princess.” 

“Excuse you!” She tossed a wadded-up napkin at him. Bail sighed and stayed out of the mounting argument. When the aide finally handed him the folded up piece of flimsy, he spoke. 

“Keep it out of certain hands,” the boy nodded meaningfully at Leia, “and don’t tell anyone I gave that to you. I could get in big trouble.” 

“Oh please, your aunt can’t be that frightening.” 

“She might not be, but my uncle doesn’t like having the family recipes floating around,” he winked and pulled off the apron. “I’m sorry, but I’ve got to go before my commander notices that I’m missing.”

“Good luck,” Leia told him, waving him away. Bail nodded his goodbye and tucked the flimsi into his pocket to keep his daughter from grabbing it. “Father!” 

“He asked me not to!” He fended off her hands. “Then I’m not going to.”

“Father!”

#$#$#$#

It wasn’t until the Imperials had left the planet did Bail Organa remember the recipe that he’d been given. Laying in his bed while his wife read through a newspaper article, he pulled the square piece flimsi from the bedside table. He unfolded it and scanned the top of a letter addressed to Governor Tarkin. His eyes shot open, and he sat up to read the letter to the end. At the bottom, in cramped writing were four lines of ingredients and how to put them together for pancakes. 

“Bail, what’s wrong?” He couldn’t remove his gaze from the letter, detailing the budget difficulty and worker problems of a weapon called Stardust. “Bail.” His wife shook his shoulder, worried. The aide had drawn a line under the word Stardust, and between the lines had written ‘Death Star; capable total planetary destruction.’ Under the word, ‘completion’ was ‘8 months to completion’. The word demonstration was circled, and besides was a word that sent chills racing down his spine. 

Alderaan. 

“Bail, talk to me, what’s wrong? What’s that?” She craned her neck to see over his shoulder and Bail handed it over to her, feeling sick to his stomach. “What is this?” She exclaimed after a moment, and he folded his hands to keep them from shaking. 

“The most dangerous recipe known to the universe,” he told her. 

“Recipe?” She read a little further along. “Why is there a recipe for pancakes on this?” 

“It’s for Leia,” he took the letter back with nerveless fingers. “I need to make a call.” 

#$#$#$#

Most reports didn’t make it past Luke’s desk before they landed on Lord Vader’s. Most of them that were too classified for him to handle were passed directly to Vader, circumventing Luke totally. There were some he managed to get his hands on and falsify to avoid letting rebels get captured or killed. There were execution orders that didn’t get sent out because of a blip in the system. Some orders to arrest were mislaid on someone else’s desk, keeping Luke from getting in trouble. The one that he was looking at now was enough to make his stomach twist unpleasantly. 

Apparently the rebellion was looking for him. They hadn’t mentioned him by name yet, but the Imperial spy was getting close to those who had his name, and the next report might have it. Vader could put information together from two seemingly unrelated ideas, and he had weeded out just as many Imperial criminals as rebellion. The fact that he hadn’t fingered Luke as a rebel agent already was a fact that never ceased to astonish him. Of course, Vader didn’t have a reason to suspect him. Luke squared his shoulders and dealt with the report in a way that looked as if it had made it to Vader’s desk but was under consideration. Tomorrow they would be making a stop off on a mid-rim world that specialized with vacation world, Luke thought it was a little much, but there were members of the crew who qualified for shore leave. 

Luke wanted to go, not for any rebellion related topic, but because he needed a break. Could he get Vader to agree to give him the afternoon off? He hadn’t even gotten a day free since the bizarre afternoon when the Emperor had slapped him. That didn’t count, because he’d been catching up on the book assignment.

He straightened as Vader entered his office, cape billowing behind him and stopped as soon as he caught sight of Luke straightening his desk. 

“What do you want?” Luke wondered if he’d consciously adopted the habit of organizing his desk in an effort to butter up the Sith Lord for a personal request. 

“Erm,” he stifled the urge to fidget, “there’s a schedule for some of the younger.”

“Spit it out, Ensign.” Vader crossed his arms. 

“Shore leave? There’s a shuttle that’s taking the younger officers on a day trip to the surface. I was invited to go along, and I was hoping,” he blinked, “that you would give me permission for a day of shore leave.” He swallowed down his trepidation. So far Vader had denied three identical requests, there was no reason to suspect that Vader might change his tune for this trip. 

“Which other officers?” 

Was he going to agree? “Some of the other aides, sir. An accounting officer, erm I don’t know exactly who else.”

“What do you intend to do with these officers?” 

“I wasn't informed of their arrangements, only that they’re planning an outing.” He gloomily considered the prospect of spending the afternoon listening to admirals and generals complain and make ridiculous demands. 

“When? 

“Tomorrow, sir. When we made orbit and the first shuttle down.”

“You may attend.” Hope stirred in his chest, and Luke held his breath to keep from yelling in excitement. “You are to return before the start of the next shift.” It wasn’t a very long time to have for leisure, but it was better than anything Luke had gotten so far. 

“Yes, sir.” He scooted out of the way and as soon as he was out of the office, pumped his fist in the air. His excitement buoyed him until the shuttle landed and he found no one from his expected group waiting for him. The landing pad was swarming with most of the other officers, pairing off or going alone, but his group had vanished. Luke did a double check of the pad and did a search and came to the annoying conclusion that he’d been left behind. With nothing else to do, Luke wandered out of the landing pad and into the bustling city traffic. There were dozens of Imperial officers moving about, easily distinguished by their uniforms and general lack of humor. Stormtroopers dotted the crowd, moving in groups of two. Luke watched the crowd for a moment and considered how he was going to spend his free afternoon. 

He’d never really had one once he was old enough to be an effective agent for the rebellion. It had been fighting, spying, killing, fighting some more, and once in a while when the action died down enough, sleeping. Now Luke had a decent amount of money he could spend on anything he wanted. 

So, what did he want? 

Luke set off down the street, examining the shop windows and their brightly colored offerings, and the varied humans who rushed in and out of the stores. There were pamphlets alongside an information booth, and Luke ducked out the way and examined them. There were advertisements for family events, theme parks that Luke knew he wouldn’t be going to. Restaurants, and bars, and some carefully hidden pamphlets that advertised a red-light district that made the rebel spy grimace. How did he want to spend his afternoon?

One pamphlet did stand out, and Luke twisted his mouth into a grin. He snatched the pamphlet up and turned to the nearest public transport to catch a ride. Within twenty minutes he was standing outside an enormous set of gates that weren’t nearly a crowded as he thought they might be. 

He glanced up to catch sight of the shadows of several different star destroyers hovering over the planet. Despite his long-term employment with the Empire, he still had to repress the urge to run aground when he saw ships holding orbit like that. There had to be people who lived here that felt the same. Even under the veneer of flawless customers service and the specifically created air of relaxation; he could feel the tension of the planet. 

“Hey!” He jerked his head, glancing at the man in the ticket booth. “You want to come in?” 

“Yes!” Luke slapped down his credit chip. “Just one, please.” 

“Sure thing.” The man handed him a ticket, “enjoy your visit to the Intergalactic Zoo.”

“Thanks!” Luke thought this might be better than whatever the other officers were planning because as soon as he stepped through the gate, he nearly vibrated out of his own skin. There were enormous enclosures all modeled perfectly after the animal’s natural habitat. Animals and beasts from all over the galaxy, some Luke had met in person and some he’d only heard about. Most of them he’d never even heard about. He spent too much time cooing over nexu kitten that was born only a few weeks before; amusing the other people in the exhibit. There were enormous birds who didn’t sit in an enclosure but flew around free overhead, that seemed to find Luke fascinzating enough to sit on his shoulders and head and peck gently at him. 

“I don’t suppose you’re going to get off anytime soon?” Luke turned his head, careful not to dislodge the small one on his head, to the bigger one sitting on his shoulder. The bird was two feet tall and had talons longer than Luke’s hands that were curled with shocking gentleness around him. They seemed to be taking care not to hurt him, which he appreciated. “I really wanted to take a look at the other animals.” 

The bird thrilled a bright note and launched from his shoulder and landed a few feet away. Luke stood, and the smaller one jumped from his head to his shoulder. 

“Alright,” he stood up, refusing to blush at the amused grin that some of the caretakers were giving him. “But don’t fall off.” The bird chirped, and Luke took that as a sign that the bird was ready. He spent the rest of the time in the zoo, dealing with employees and other visitors giving him a hard-eyed double take as he walked by with the birds hanging around him. When Luke went underground to look at the variety of sea creatures the small bird, who Luke settled to calling “Newy” made a comfortable spot in his cap and forced Luke into carrying him around. 

“You are a pain,” Luke huffed and hoisted his cap up so the small bird could get a good luck at the larvae stage Nubian Opee Sea Killer. The bird chirped as the eight-foot-long sea creature opened one of its eyes, blinking the first set of eyelids, and took in the sight of Luke and his small avian passenger. Wrapped in a sack of amniotic string, it couldn’t and wouldn’t move, but that didn’t make its appearance any less frightening. Luke couldn’t imagine meeting one of these in person. 

“Theessa a bombad fish.” Luke turned from the pain of glass to the gungan woman standing at the other end of the tunnel. 

“I’ve heard they can eat a whole Tribubble Bongo when they’re only a few centuries old.” 

“Thessa true,” the woman ambled into the room, “Whosa you?” 

“I’m Turroo Demoins,” he was hyper-aware of his uniform and what it meant to someone like her. He also knew that being Nubian might be a bonus. Or she might see him as a traitor. He blinked and recognized her. “Are you Dr. Teers of the Otoh Gunga?” He beamed, offering his hand. “I’m a huge fan of your work. I really am. I’ve read every single paper you’ve published in the last few years.” 

“Youssa read them?” She shook his hand, looking a little surprised. “Why?” 

“I’m an avid reader of science journals.” They were some of the only things he’d been able to read on an assignment where he passed for an undergrad student. “The one you wrote about the algae near the abyss volcanoes potentially developing into a differing life-form was fascinating.” Dr. Teer brightened visibly. 

“Data conclusive witttha oldda reports.” 

“Um, I understand Gungi,” Luke told her, feeling a little embarrassed, “if you’d feel more comfortable with that I’d still be able to understand you.” He’d spent enough time on Mon Cala helping the resistance there with a few of the Gungan rebels to understand most of the language. He did have to ask her to repeat most of the scientific terms in Basic, but she seemed ecstatic to have someone willing to listen. Their conversation lasted a few hours, halfway through the bird had gotten bored in Luke’s hat and had taken off for the rest of the zoo, rejoining its mother in the sunlight. It wasn’t until his comm chimed that Luke realized he had only an hour to make it back to the landing pad to catch the shuttle back to the ship. 

Dr. Teers gave him her comm unit number in case he wanted to talk more, which he thought was sweet considering, and he made his way to the exit through the gift shop. Considering he now had money burning a hole in his pocket, he spent a few minutes waffling on the idea of buying a stuffed animal and ended up picking out a loth-cat and felt a bit foolish as he stuffed it into the bottom of his bag. The clerk gave a knowing smile but thankfully said nothing as Luke rushed away. 

The first sight of trouble was the crowd of officers and troopers assembled at the landing pad and spread about among the crowds around it. Troopers moving back and forth with purpose, checking ID’s and interviewing citizens. As soon as Luke was spotted, troopers surrounded him. Confused, and not sure if his cover had been broken, Luke waited for an officer to join him. 

“You!” A heavy-set officer, probably from eating too much of the rich food the world offered, waddled up, “Are you Ensign Demoins?” 

“Yes, sir.” Luke glanced at the troopers, handing over his ID chip. “Is there a problem?” 

“Yes, where have you been today?” 

“Um, where have I been? I’ve been at the Zoo.” Luke rifled through his pockets, coming up with his ticket stub and handing it over. 

“The zoo,” the man scoffed and examined the ticket stub. “Why the zoo?” 

“The tickets were on a discount if you had a pamphlet from an information booth,” Luke told him without blushing. He refused to be embarrassed when so many other men would be. He suffered the considering stare with as much grace as he could muster. “Is there a problem?” 

“Yes, troopers escort him to the shuttle and make sure he makes it there.” 

“Ah,” Luke considered that it had to be a good sign that they hadn’t clapped him in irons. “Yes, sir.” He followed the soldiers meekly, glancing around to see if there was a clue about what going on. There was nothing. The shuttle was empty of everyone expect him and the troopers who waited around long enough for him to strap in before leaving him. The ride back to the ship was worrying, and Luke wondered if he should just try to be making his escape. 

He glanced out the viewport just as the ship landed in the hanger and felt his stomach sink to see Vader waiting just outside. There was another officer, Luke didn’t recognize him, and several troopers. Probably to arrest him. 

Luke fidgeted with his pockets and gave the stuffed animal a pat before descending the ramp. Usually having Lord Vader wait for your arrival would have been complimentary, but for regular officers, it was a death sentence. Vader didn’t wait for Luke to get any closer, he stormed the last few steps to him and seized his collar. Familiar terror seized up his throat, rebel instincts kicking in as Vader loomed. 

“Where have you been?” He thundered, shaking Luke slightly. “What heinous, deplorable acts have you committed.” The first part was a surprise; the second was bizarre enough that Luke didn’t have time to pretend to be polite. 

“What?” He asked, blankly looking up at the mask and wondering what had happened. 

“Where have you been?” Vader demanded. 

“I was on shore leave,” Luke squeaked as Vader hoisted him near off the floor. He was on his tip-toes, which was not helping his sore feet. “For the afternoon. That’s all you gave me permission for.” 

“Where were you?” 

“Um,” Luke glanced at the apathetic officers behind him and looked back at Vader. “I don’t understand the question, sir.” 

“What were you doing from 0930 to 1730?”

“I was,” Luke stalled as he thought of how Vader might receive his chosen activity. One fat officer on a vacation world wasn’t enough to make him care, but he worked with Vader every day. His thoughts rattled around in his head as Vader shook him again. 

“Well?” 

“At the zoo.” He managed past the red rising on his cheeks. He refused to look at the Sith as he pulled the ticket stub from his pocket and handed it over. 

“Can this be verified by witnesses?”

“Yes, sir.” 

“Who?” 

“Dr. Teers, the interim director of marine biology at the University of Theed, and Gungan City. Would you?” He tapped Vader’s wrist, “put me down now, please?” 

For a moment the Sith considered him and lowered him back to the hangar floor. He whirled on the other officers. “Ensure that this is recorded on file.” He ordered. The officer snagged the ticket stub out of the air and ducked out of the way as Vader stormed away, dragging Luke behind him. 

Feeling a lot like a child caught misbehaving and a lot less like the mighty Imperial officer/ spy he was supposed to be; Luke twisted around, trying to break the Sith’s grip on his shoulder.

“Sir, would you please.” He nearly stumbled as Vader shoved him into the turbolift. “I don’t.” As soon as Vader punched the command to take them up, he whirled on Luke. 

“Do not ever associate with those men ever again and from here on out you are forbidden from engaging in any romantic entanglement.” 

“Sir?” Confused and getting angrier at the moment, Luke glowered up at the Sith, abandoning all sense of control. “I don’t even know what’s going on.” 

“You are fortunate you do not,” Vader seethed. Luke stared up at him. The turbolift opened at their floor with Vader’s and his quarters. He pushed him through. “To illustrate that you were not involved in the scandal, you will remain at my side at all times in public. Your behavior will be beyond reproach.” 

“What scandal?” Luke asked, and Vader stopped halfway down the hall and whirled around. Luke swallowed and considered the viability of jumping back into the turbolift and hiding. 

“The officers,” Vader began, surprising Luke with his answer, “you were intending to spend shore leave with, have engaged in unseemly behavior befitting officers of their stations.” 

“So, business as normal, except that they got caught?” Luke briefly wondered where his sense went when Vader growled.

“Mind your insolence, boy,” Vader ordered, jabbing a hand his way. “While other officers may not care for this breach of conduct, I will allow no such actions to pass among my crew. These are crimes they will be punished for. You,” Luke swayed back at the force of his proclamation, “will avoid all romantic entanglements until you are of a suitable age for marriage.” 

“Ah,” Luke bleakly thought Vader was over-estimating Luke’s longevity. He probably wouldn’t make it to 20, much less to any age he could get married. “How old is that?” 

“25.” Vader stomped away, and Luke wilted. 

“25! What about dating?” 

“You are too young to date. Such entanglements should not be on your mind.”

“You!” Luke sputtered in his outrage. “Girls like me!” 

“The princesses you have met have all coveted the idea of you,” Vader led the way to his private office, one of the only places he could work in peace. “Which is why their offers of marriage were so extravagant.” 

“I don’t even know why they proposed. I’m only an Ensign, and I don’t have any money.” 

“Perhaps,” Vader stopped at the viewport, looking out. He turned back to Luke, and the rebel froze. “You have done admirably well considering the great obstacles in your way, young one.”

“Erm, thank you, sir.” 

“This is not an allowance for you to behave poorly,” Vader told him. Luke wondered if he’d lost his mind somewhere along the line. “There are many eyes on you.”

“I don’t understand, sir.” And he didn’t, and he didn’t understand why Vader felt the need to inform him. “I’m just an ensign.” 

“Be that as it may,” Vader turned around and fixed Luke with an imperious stare. “You are to avoid fraternization with such other officers. If you cannot find appropriate company, then keep your own.” The rebel tried to keep his bitterness down, to quell the anger in his heart. Vader crossed his arms as Luke tried to keep his temper under control. “You object.” 

“No, sir.” 

“Do not lie to me, Ensign,” the Sith rumbled. Luke glowered at the tops of this boots, and then out the viewport, refusing to look at Vader. 

“I already have a very limited pool of.” Friends was too strong a word, but Luke was getting lonely, and at this point, he would take just about anyone. “Companions, sir.” He knew this sort of isolation wasn’t healthy. 

“I do not care whose company you keep, Ensign. So long as they do not intend to embarrass themselves in any way and are of good standing.” 

That was practically nobody on this ship. Vader never approved of the other aides, and whatever he seemed to see in Luke was specific only to Luke. 

“Yes, sir.” He rocked back on his heels and wondered who he was friends with previous to his conscription who would be willing to communicate with him as well as keep the secret of his rebel status.

“That will be all,” Vader waved him away, and Luke retreated gratefully. 

It was several more months before anything of interest happened. Luke’s leak to the Rebel Alliance about the Death Star hadn’t resulted in anything, and the Imperial court seemed to settle down for winter season. 

Luke opened his eyes one day after Vader returned from a mission on a muddy planet that was rumored to have a rebel base, and his entire body protested the action. His head felt stuffed, his throat was sore, and he felt hot and cold at the same time. After a moment too long he realized that Vader was standing over his bed. 

Vader was in his room! And he couldn’t quite summon the alarm that would have been justified. Luke tried to sit up and as the galaxy swam around him, laid back.

“You are late, Ensign.” 

“What?” Luke managed to speak after several failed attempts. He realized that Vader must have carried something back with him from the rainy mudball. 

“The ships day cycle is half over.” 

Luke blinked a few times, breathing slowly through his stuffy nose and managed a weak smile. “Sorry, sir.” He tried to sit up again, only to have a heavy gloved hand push him down again. 

“Stay down, young Ensign, you will only worsen.” 

“You aren’t mad?” It was a stupidly childish thing to say, but Luke wasn’t feeling up to scratch for a decent conversation.

“You had managed my schedule so exactly, with forwarding actions, that no one noticed your absence until there was no to take dictation.” Luke stared up at the Sith, faintly alarmed when one his cups floated into the Siths hand, full of water. Was he going to drown Luke like this? Wasn’t it easier to strangle him? His surprise peak into shock when Vader plucked the cup from the air and it out for Luke to take. Luke managed a few sips before his stomach roiled unpleasantly and he felt like vomiting. He handed it back, leaning against his blankets with a winded sigh. 

“My apologies, sir.” He wasn’t sure why he was bothering to apologize. It wasn’t really his fault he was sick. Though, he was sick and at the tender mercies of a man known to be totally merciless. Luke grimaced a little as a heavy hand pressed against his forehead. It came away with a wet, sweaty sheen. 

“I will summon a medic to ascertain how much you have been affected.” 

“I think I’ll be okay.” He blinked a few times, and Vader stood.

“Stay down.” Luke didn’t bother to nod, but closed his eyes and woke from his fitful nap when the door opened again, and a medic came bustling through. He seemed surprised to see Luke laying in bed, and Luke wondered if the medic was used to coming in to clean up the mess Vader made after he had strangled someone.

“Ensign Demoins, how do you feel?” the cot dipped as the medic sat down, Luke shrugged. 

“Fine.” 

“Of course you do, that’s why I’m here.” The medic lifted a metal wan and pressed the round end against Luke’s forehead. “Lovely little fever of about 100, well done.” 

“I try.” 

“Do you know who or what you came in contact with yesterday?” 

“I was filing reports, alone in the office,” Luke croaked, “there was a droid who brought me my meals. Lord Vader returned.” 

“Hmm, we’ll have to analyze your blood to see what could be the issue. That was a bit of a mudball.” 

“Thanks,” Luke felt his stomach flip as a needle slid under his skin. A few minutes later the machine beeped, and the doctor scoffed. 

“This is not going to be easy for you. You’ve got the Anasian Virus.”

“What’s that?”

“A virus that takes a few weeks to run its course.” 

“What about anti-viral bacta?” 

“Oh, that works with almost anything else. As is, the Anasian virus feeds on bacta. We’ll have to use regular anti-virals, and those are not going to make this easy for you.” 

“How long until I’m back up and working?” 

“Not at any point in the near future,” the doctor told him, “excuse me, I have to speak with Lord Vader.” Luke was left alone; he coughed a few times. His lungs felt like they were rattling around in his chest. Feebly, he turned over and yanked his blanket over his head and hoped that if he were going to die it would be soon. He dozed off again, only waking up enough to realize that Vader was looming over him again. Luke’s fever-addled brain hardly noticed how the Sith tucked another blanket around him. 

Over the next few days, Luke wavered in an out of consciousness. He was asleep when someone hooked him up to an IV. The first time he managed to stay awake longer than an hour, he was alone the entire time. The second time he managed to stay awake the medic came back. 

“You’ve been pretty out of it these last few days,” the doctor told him, smiling at Luke’s delirious stare. “Thankfully you’re on the road to recovery. It’s going to be a while before you’re working as hard as you were.” 

“Cool,” Luke muttered, and the man gave a startled laugh. “What?” 

“You sound like that character from the little movie a while back. You know that one called “A Bridge Away.” 

“Everyone saw that,” Luke answered in the voice of his character. His favorite, secret skill was how he could manipulate his voice. “Got a good laugh didn’t it?” 

“Yes,” the doctor was chuckling into his hand, trying to avoid hysterical laughter. “Stop.”

“Never can tell with these types,” Luke croaked, “Too many of them trying to get a raise.” 

“Stop!” The doctor flapped his hands at Luke, “Lord Vader will hear you.” 

“Thought you liked that movie?” Luke asked, letting his voice sound normal. 

“I do,” the doctor shook his head, “but Lord Vader hates it. I mean he hates it.” 

“He’s allergic to fun,” Luke said and closed his eyes as the doctor prodded his arm where the IV was inserted. “I’m hungry.” 

“At this stage, you won’t be able to keep anything down. It’s best you just deal with the nutrient tube and not bother with trying to eat.”

“If I have to,” Luke muttered. He slipped off to sleep again, waking when someone pressed a hand against his forehead. He stared up at a black wrist and then up at the mask. “Sir?”

“Return to sleep, young one,” Vader ordered, still holding a hand against his head. Luke had spent enough time in Vader’s company that he didn’t react as he probably should have. It felt comforting, the gesture was soothing, and he felt his eyes slid shut.

“What about the work?” 

“There are others who will handle your duties.”

“Sorry,” Luke slurred out, Vader’s respirator was a comforting background noise he’d acclimated too. 

“You have nothing to apologize for.” The hand withdrew, Luke made a noise. “Sleep.” Unwittingly, Luke fell asleep again. 

Vader watched the young ensign sleep far longer than he should have. His lean frame encased in blankets, with monitoring equipment ad the IV, hooked to him. The boy probably did not know how close had come to dying. Very few people survived this virus without strong immunizations, and a blood test proved that the young ensign had an unusual amount of immunizations. Many were against poisons that only a senator, president, or high ranking official would have fears. Others were for exotic viruses and were then passed down remains from a Republic immunization cock-tail usually given to senators. This was peculiar, but there was nothing special about the boy. No matter how much he looked like and reminded him of Padme. 

He brushed back sweaty hair, unwilling to leave him be. Turroo had come so close to dying; even the fact that he could open his eyes at this point, to hold a conversation, was a minor miracle. 

“Lord Vader,” the CMO entered the small quarters. Since the boy had fallen to the illness, the entire section of the ship was quarantined to keep the virus from spreading. He had lived in close quarters with many more people than he was used to. 

“What is it?” Vader asked, moving his hand away from the young man.

“There is a message from Grand Admiral Thrawn waiting for you on your desk, sir. The other young aide forwarded the message.” 

“Very well,” Vader stood, leaving the young man to sleep through the worst of his sickness. 

#$#$#$#

Luke didn’t have many memories of being sick. There were a few blurred conversations with doctors, but the seemingly constant presence of Vader looming in the background, keeping him company on the nights that the fever worsened. When Luke finally woke up and was able to sit up, the medics and doctors assembled gave a polite, muted applause. 

“Why are we clapping?” Luke asked as he tried his best to move his legs off the bed and under him. 

“You’ve survived a very dangerous virus,” the CMO told him, helping him stand on very shaky and very tired legs. “A very dangerous virus, you nearly died a few times.” 

“Really?” Luke surprise made the assembled officers cough and stared at each other a few times. “Why didn't you tell me?” 

“We didn’t want you to…erm…worry.” 

Luke shook his head, “worry?” 

“You were already very delirious. We thought by telling you just how dangerous the virus was; you might…despair and die. We were being careful.” 

“Thanks, but I was so out of it, I don’t remember hardly anything.” 

“That’s…probably for the best,” the men and women exchanged glances. 

#$#$# 

In the month since the boy had begun recovery, he was still on light duty. No matter his orders though, the boy often disobeyed them. Exerting himself more than he should, tiring himself out too quickly. Like now. 

“You should not be here,” Vader intoned, Ensign Demoins had made it halfway down the hallway, and leaning heavily against the wall. He glanced over to Vader and said nothing, his deep and uneven breathes were all he needed. Vader set an arm around the ensign's torso and helped him the last few dozen feet to his office. Demoins sat heavily in the chair and took a few minutes to get his breath back. “It is too late for you to up. You are violating your orders, Ensign.” 

“Apologies,” the young man held out the datapad he’d been carrying. Vader summoned it with the force and watched as the young man closed his eyes and leaned his head back, apparently exhausted. “It’s a message from Director Krennic. It’s marked as important.” 

Vader opened the message and closed it with disgust. “It is nothing more than baseless demands for more funding. Not worth the risk of fainting, young one.” 

“I’m fine, sir,” Demoins said without opening his eyes. “You don’t need to coddle me.” 

“I am not,” Vader retorted, crossing his arms and considering the young man across the desk. “There are none but fools to claim that I coddle you, you have proven your ability and worth many times over. However, you act foolishly to your own detriment.”

“I am not a fool,” the boy muttered, and he yawned. “There’s just a lot of work to be done. I have to keep up on my work.” 

“Your dedication does you credit,” Vader told the young man. He was unwilling to admit the freezing terror that had frozen heart in place. A heart he wasn’t sure he’d had since Padme’s death. It was rediculous, his attachment to this young man was nothing more than trouble. Vader was a Sith Lord, and the boy was not related to Padme. He was a foolish boy who had mispoken at a dance party. Still, it did nothing to stop him from moving around the desk and pressing a hand gently to his forehead. Demoins eyes shot open in surprise, and he stared up at Vader. “You should return to your rest, Ensign.” 

The boy was flushed red, this Vader could see easily through his tinted shades of his mask. 

“I’m fine,” he croaked, “Really.” Obviously, he was not. Vader held out his hand, which the boy took, still red in the face. “You don’t have to help.” 

“Obviously I do,” Vader told him, “do not contradict me.” 

“Yes, sir.”

“Tomorrow you will begin to make preparations for a visit to a Senate gala. There is one being hosted that I am required to attend, and by proxy, you.” 

“A senate gala?” 

“It is not for another few weeks,” Vader told him, catching the relief on his face. “You will have more time to recover.” 

“Oh, good.” The door opened, and Vader helped his aide over the threshold and to his cot. Demoins sat down heavily. “I’m not sure I can dance with anyone right now.”

“Given the gossip circulating the Court at the moment, you will have a full dance card,” Vader reminded him, stepping back to give the boy his space. He nearly ran into the shelves full of plants and books. 

“Please don’t marry me off. I’m not ready to be married. It seems like a lot of work. I am not ready for it at all.” 

“I have no intention of marrying you to any of the suitors who will no doubt ask.” 

“What makes you think that they’ll ask?” 

“You are aware of every invitation I have fielded of royal families and otherwise wealthy families to attend parties and gatherings. No doubt an attempt to meet you and suse you out. Gathering intelligence to determine if you are exactly what the rumors say you are.” 

“What do the rumors say that I am?” Turroo swallowed hard ad Vader tucked his thumbs into his belt. 

“That you are a good man.” Vader watched the words sink in, and the boy snort gracelessly. 

“They don’t know me,” his despair was more surprising, as Vader had been expecting embarassment. “They don’t know me, and they won’t want to know me.” 

“Perhaps not,” Vader wondered if the boy was aware he was broadcasting the fact he was hiding something. It couldn’t be anything too damning though; the force never lied, and it proclaimed that the young man in front of him was true and honest. “You will need your strength, Ensign, rest up.” 

“Yes, sir.” The boy gave a half-hearted salute and sagged back on his pillows with a weary sigh. Vader left before he could devolve into a sentimental fool. 

#$#$#43

A Senate ball wasn’t interesting enough for Leia to keep her attention focused on a single person at a time. Despite that fact that she was supposed to be gathering intelligence, the same as every other person in the room, her attention was focused on the door as she waited for her target to enter. 

Vader was late, which wasn’t a surprise. He was always late to things like this. He never wanted to attend in the first place, which the princess didn’t fault him for. However, his tag a long needed to be here so she could interrogate him 

“Princess Leia?” One of the other senator’s daughters wandered up, smiling. “How are you?” 

“Very well, thank you.” Leia smiled at the other girl, bracing herself for the questions about her fashion and hair. 

“Did you hear that Lord Vader is coming?” The question blindsided her, but Leia adapted quickly. 

“I did. He often comes to these galas.”   
“Yes, but this time he’s bringing his little aide with him,” the girl smiled around her flute of champagne, “and I’ve heard stories about him.” 

“The aide?” 

“Oh, yes. Apparently, there have been a dozen offers of marriages from many royal families and even one of the Kuat shipping families.” 

“Marriage? For Turroo?” Leia pretended shock; she’d heard this from the short ensign already. 

“You know him?” The girl smiled brightly, “truly?” 

“I’ve met him briefly,” she lied, “he seems far too young to be considering marriage.” 

“He isn’t; Lord Vader turned down all of the proposals. Is this Turroo as nice and wonderful as they say?” 

“He,” Leia paused, “was very formal with me.”

 

“A shame, I’ve heard he’s a divine dancer. I can’t wait to see if he’s a good as they say,” her eyes tracked through the crowd, “have you met Eli Vanto? He serves Grand Admiral Thrawn. He’s nice too.” 

“Is he?” Leia wasn’t interested in dancing or marriage, but any information on Thrawn was valuable. “What’s he like?” 

“A bit of a hick, honestly,” the girl confessed, “but perfectly nice. I’m not keen on marrying a military type of man, but nowadays the options are a bit limited.” 

“So it seems,” Leia had to agree, but she wasn’t planning on marrying anyone, much less Turroo Demoins. The crowd parted as Vader stalked through, a few officers trailed behind him. One notably dressed in fine civilian clothes. It was Demoins, and girlish whisperers trailed after him as he followed Vader to the throne where the Emperor was sitting. There was the minimal chattering as Vader knelt before the Emperor and stood a few minutes later. The man remained behind at the Emperor’s side but waved his aide forward. Leia tried to cover her smile as the ensign descended the steps and was promptly mobbed. 

She smirked as one of the girls coaxed the young man onto the floor as the orchestra struck up a new waltz. They were right, at least, Turroo Demoins was a phenomenal dancer. Leia could understand why so many ladies had been absolutely struck by him. He was cute, unthreatening, he listened well, he danced well, and he was connected to a very powerful man. A powerful man who seemed to favor him immensely. No one bought their aide a suit that expensive if they didn’t like them and wanted to send a message. 

Leia descided to drift toward Thrawn and the young man at his side. Civilians and officers alike were avoiding both, who seemed surprised as Leia approached. 

“Good evening, gentlemen,” she gave a perfectly polite nod, watching Thrawn’s eyes narrow. 

“Princess,” he nodded back, and his aide gave a hasty bow. “How are you this evening?” 

“Very well, thank you, and yourself.” 

“Well.” 

“I’m fine,” the boy piped up and then flushed. “Um, Princess. Err.” 

“It’s no trouble,” she waved off his awkwardness. 

“I see that you are not choosing to mob the young Demoins?” The alien observed, and Leia resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “He is apparently a likely candidate for marriage to any number of eligible young ladies.” 

“For those interested, perhaps,” Leia answered, and the alien smiled blandly. “I have met him, though.” 

“He is really nice,” Eli Vanto said, “I’ve worked with him a few times. He is pretty much as nice as everyone says he is.” 

“I’ve heard the same thing about you, Mr. Vanto,” she smiled as he blushed a brilliant red. “Do you dance as well?”

“When I’m asked,” he stuttered, looking up at this commander with confused and hopeful eyes. 

“Then would you take this dance with me?” She held out a hand, which Vanto took only after Thrawn nodded his agreement. Eli Vanto was a bit of a fumbling dancer, not nearly as graceful as Demoins, but he was perfectly polite and absolutely earnest. 

Still, her dance with Vanto attracted the attention of several other women. He was swept away by another girl just seconds after their dance ended. She fluttered aroudn the edges of the party keeping her attention partly on Demoins and partly on her father. It was a surprise when halfway through the evening, she felt a hand on her elbow. 

He was standing beside her, having escaped the horde of other dancers. He was smiling faintly, and his face was flushed. “Do you mind if I have this dance, Princess?” 

“Not at all,” she accepted his hand and let him guide her to the dance floor. “You look like you’ve lost weight.”

“I caught a virus; I’m still supposed to be on light duty.”

“Then this might not count,” Leia observed, “you seem very tired.” 

“I am,” he was a fantastic dancer, and Leia felt herself preening under the jealous stares of the other attendees. “I really need a moment to breathe before I fall over in a faint.”

“Hmm, if you can escape after this dance, I know a very quiet spot in the palace gardens.”

“That might be manageable.” 

“Is that why you asked to dance with me?” She asked, and Turroo gave her a wide grin. 

“You’re my friend, Princess, aren’t I allowed to dance with you?” 

“I don’t think Lord Vader would approve.” 

“I don’t think he approved of my dance with the youngest Lady Tarkin or dancing with Zevlon Veeers. He’ll yell at me later.” 

“Aren’t you worried?” They moved together perfectly as if they’d danced a thousand times before. 

“Obviously, but I’m a little tired to care about anything right now.”

“How tired?” Turroo seemed very wane. “How bad was it?” 

“I nearly died a few times,” he admitted, and Leia gasped despite herself. “I’m alright now, though. I just have to take it easy.” 

“You have better,” Leai jerked to a halt halfway through the dance and pulled Turroo from the dance floor and toward one of the hallways where a few other couples had spent their evening. It showcased beautiful art and stellar views of the city-scape. No one followed them, but Turroo sighed as they emerged into a beautiful garden. 

“They’re going to gossip,” he warned her, and she scoffed. 

“Let them,” she let go of his hand, and they slowed to a peaceful pace. “My father appreciates your sense of humor.” 

“My sense of humor?” 

“that recipe you gave me was a dud,” Leia told him primly, annoyed despite the humor in her voice. “Ten cups of flour, three cups of water, two cups of sugar. It wasn’t a real recipe. Don’t you dare laugh!” She command, but Turroo’s mouth had tilted into a smirk, and he shrugged at her. 

“I wouldn’t laugh at a princess,” he told her, smiling, “I’d be much too frightened.” 

“Hush up, you.” 

“Sorry, Princess.” He caught sight of a few swings and smiled as he sat down on one. “You know, I haven’t played on one of these in years.” 

“Well,” Leia hooked her hands around the chains and leaned over him, staring at the distant flowers and trees, “I haven’t either. Let me push you.” 

“Don’t!” He yelped in surprise as Leia pulled back on the chains and then gave him a hearty shove. “Princess,” he dragged his feet on the ground to get himself to stop, “why?” 

“Because you nearly died from the virus,” she told him primly, “A little fun is exactly what you need.”

“A little fun, only if you join me.”

“Alright.” Leia took the other swing and gave herself a heavy shove off the ground. “We can have fun together.”

They rejoined the party when he gained some color back and didn’t seem like he was going to faint at a stiff breeze. 

 

“I thought that the ladies infatuation with this young man was imagined,” General Veers watched the spectacle of Lord Vader’s ensign with a critical eye. “Even Princess Organa has been caught up in the tizzy.”

“You know girls,” General Mak, “they’ll go after any pretty face.” 

“Apparently so does Zevlon,” someone pointed out, and Veers caught sight of his son in the group surrounding the young man. “They danced together earlier.” 

“They did,” Veers scoffed into his drink and watched the two talk; there were several girls hanging around them. He watched a knot of younger officers across the room eyeballing the assembled girls around Ensign Demoins. “Though, considering the usual officers they have to contend with, I think I understand.” 

“What’s wrong with the usual officers?” General Mak demanded.

“They aren’t the sort that ladies like to associate with,” Veers pointed out, “I’ve met the young man in passing, and he is the sort that ladies like. Not just because he has a pretty face.” The other general scoffed. “I’m surprised he’s managed to keep upright this entire evening.” 

“Why? He drinks?”

“No, he’s recovering from the Anasian virus,” Veers related. 

“I did hear your ship was under quarantine for a few weeks. Had to get the whole thing disinfected did you?” 

“The Anasian virus is very dangerous,” the general sighed, “we lost a good few men to it. The mission we went on killed every single trooper who went on it. Lord Vader transferred it to his aide, and he was the only survivor.” 

“Good god.” 

“Yes,” he sipped his drink, “a few weeks ago he couldn’t walk down the corridor without falling flat. It’s amazing he’s recovered this well.” 

“I suppose it is. Thought, for someone in his position, would have worried more about getting strangled then nearly dying from a virus.” 

“That’s usually what his aides are afraid of,” Veers agreed and sighed as the group of officers began to scowl at the short aide. He was apparently transfixed by whatever a young lady had to say; his brown eyes fixed firmly on her face; never dipping below her collarbone despite the tempting lure of her low-cut gown. “Someone is going to attack him.”

“Probably, blaming him for taking all of the girls.” 

Given the ugly glares he was receiving from the other young officers, Veers was sure it was going to happen sooner rather than later. Lord Vader wasn’t paying any attention to his aide, he was deep in conversation with the Emperor, and he could only imagine what Vader would do to Veers if he found out that he’d let his aide get attacked. 

“Excuse me,” Veers nodded to the other. He made his way through the room, nodding politely until he came upon the overly crowded table. “Ladies, gentlemen,” he nodded to his son, who blushed a violent shade of red. That was concerning, but he wasn’t going to touch that topic tonight. “Do you mind if I borrow Ensign Demoins?” He didn’t wait for an answer as he seized the young man’s shoulder and pulled him from the group. When they were in an alcove that Veers as sure was bugged, he spoke again. “It would be very wise of you to not be alone at any point this evening.” 

“Sir?” 

“There are other men here, at this party, who are taking grave offense to your popularity.” 

“Popularity?” Despite his best efforts, the young man was blushing. “I’m not.” 

“Regardless of what you think, other officers are going to take insult. They think that you’re stealing the girl's attention.” 

“I’m not stealing anything!” 

“I’m not disagreeing; these young ladies are allowed to choose who they spend their evening with, but since they can’t take their frustration out any other way. They may choose to attack you.” 

“Oh,” he didn’t look surprised but was definitely angry. “Thank you, sir.” 

“Don’t go anywhere alone, and when the Devastators crew is ready to leave keep in the middle of a group of older officers.”

“Yes, sir.” The young man was awfully thin and pale, but he stood straight and solid.

“And no making any moves on my son,” he added as a bonus, just to watch the other man stutter out a half-hearted protest. “Let’s go back before they add me to the betting pool of potential suitors.” 

“Betting pool?” 

“Of course, Court gossip is never this entertaining.” 

“Entertaining?” As they reentered the party Veers let go of the young man as a very tall Hapan lady came sweeping over, demanding a dance. 

“Of course it’s entertaining,” Veers muttered himself as he rejoined the group of generals all nursing their drinks and considering heading to bed early. “That boy has no idea what’s going on. Whose in charge of the betting pool?”

“I am,” General Andrid raised a hand. 

“What are the odds?” 

“Well, there’s a good number betting on a few royal families from the mid-Rim. A few bets on Leia Organa of Alderann.” 

“Hmm, put me down for ace,” Veers told the man, the other generals eyed him. 

“Ace?” General Andrid made a note on his datapad. “You know something we don’t?” 

“Just a hunch,” Veers said, “Ace, but he’ll start seeing Zevlon within the next four months.” 

Andrid whistled as he added the notation. “Your son, don’t you disapprove?”

“Only if the idiot gets himself killed before they break up.”

“Got it, the entering bet is 100 credits.” 

“That’s a hefty pot,” Veers whistled and passed over his credit chip. “Winner takes all?” 

“Yep. Remember, you can’t do anything to influence the pot, or you’re winnings go to the next closest.” 

“I’ve got it,” Veers watched Demoins slid back into his seat, and Zevlon give him a too-fond smile. “I won’t have to.” 

#$$#$#

“It’s called the Death Star,” Bail Organa glanced around the Council room to watch the reactions of the men and women around it. “Our informant said that it was near completion and awaiting orders. It has the capabilities to destroy an entire planet. The first target is Alderann. While our informant didn’t manage to get more information than that, the information they did give us was on a missive between two ranking members of the military.” No one looked like they believed him.

“Do we know it’s weaknesses?”

“No,” Bail sighed, “and we can’t take this before the Senate because they will know this is a military leak. Our informant will be found and tortured; we can’t risk that happening. They are highly placed.” 

“And what about its location?”

“We’ve been promised the location,” Bail said, “and a list of possible weaknesses, but we can’t push for them.” 

Mon Mothma was looking at him, and when the room cleared out, it was only him, Kenobi, and Mothma. He squared his shoulders and looked them both in the eyes. 

“It was Luke,” he said without preamble, and Mothma’s mouth dropped open. 

“What?” 

“I saw Luke; he’s the young aide that Vader has been dragging around. His disguise is clever and very good, but,” Bail sighed, “I knew his parents too well. I could tell it was Luke after just a few minutes. He’s safe so long as Vader doesn’t know who he is.” 

“I’ve been hearing rumors,” Mothma said, “that Vader favors his young aide. He has some sort of plan for him.” 

“I can’t confirm them except to say that Vader does give him a little more attention then an aide is usually warranted. I don’t know why, but I know Luke is an agent for the Rebellion and I know he’s helping us. He gave this to me, right under Vader’s nose.” 

“I thought Luke was dead,” Kenobi closed his eyes, “until he showed up at the treaty signing.” 

“Leia told me,” Bail sighed, “that Luke’s story was that he insulted someone at a dinner party was forcefully conscripted, specifically as Vader’s aide.” 

“Does Vader know?” 

“I don’t think so,” Bail sighed, “I think that Vader would have made a few more drastic actions then just an upgraded wardrobe. Neither of them know, which is the safest for both of them. We can only wait for Luke to provide more information.”

“We need to get him out of there,” Obi-Wan said quickly, “if Vader ever discovers the truth he will kill him.” 

“I don’t think he will,” Bail interjected, “I’ve seen Darth Vader dealing with him as he thinks Luke is only an aide. If he were to discover that he was his son.” 

“It wouldn’t matter, once he discovers that Luke isn’t force sensitive, he’ll kill him.” Obi-Wan shook his head. “He would never claim a son that wasn’t as strong as he was.” 

“That may be the case, but Luke is a strategic position that we can’t compromise. If he can get us more information on the Death Star, we can turn the tide of the war!” 

“Luke could be in danger,” Obi-Wan insisted, and Bail shook his head. 

“As long as he keeps his head down and doesn’t make Darth Vader angry, he should be safe. He’s survived this long. I will speak to Leia about communicating with him to gauge his state, but we shouldn’t pull him. He accidentally ended up in the best place one of our agents could ever be.” 

“I agree with Senator Organa; Luke is best where he is at the moment. Moving him might include Lord Vader’s wrath and a singular hunt for him.” 

“Perhaps,” Obi-Wan sighed, “I don’t like leaving Luke there. I want my objection known.” 

“It is noted,” Mothma set a hand on his arm, “Senator Organa, please monitor him to the best of your abilities. We cannot allow this to go waste.” 

#$#$3

To Bail’s eternal gratitude, Leia didn’t ask too many questions when he inquires about Turroo Demoins, and it’s odd to think of the young blond as Turroo. She sent a message to him, a general message that was polite as it was bland and received, within a day, a reply that was just as polite and bland. Before Organa was aware of what was going on, Luke and Leia were fast friends. Messages were sometimes long between, but they were plenty. If Organa didn’t know that the boy was a Rebel spy and Leia’s own twin, he might have been worried. As it was, despite the censors and the people reading the messages, none of them were really intercepted. As far as Bail was aware, and because of Leia frequent rants, they discussed science and Imperial approve literature. 

At least, in some small way, Luke and Leia were able to know each other. 

#$#$#$3

Luke prodded his busted lip miserably and eyed his reflection as he turned the facet off. Ever since the Senate gala was a few months back, he’d been back to Imperial center exactly four times. Each time he’d followed General’s Veers advice to remain with other officers and not go anywhere alone. 

Now, this time he’d been jumped by a few young officers who were stationed on the planet. Apparently, they took offense to how popular he’d become. 

It didn’t make any sense to him. The girls were nice, a little too attentive, but they were nice, and each of them had something they liked to talk about a lot. It was easy for Luke to get them talking about their favorite topics, so they didn’t ask him uncomfortable questions and learned he wasn’t as well educated as they were. 

He carefully slipped off his shirt and hissed at the bruise. It wasn’t anything he wasn’t used to, but he hated getting beaten up. It was a good thing that one of the other officers had come by, his attackers had scattered, and Luke was left to pick himself off the floor. 

“Ow, ow, ow.” He picked up the bacta gel and heard the door outside the refresher open. Thankfully the only thing that would come into his rooms the cleaning droid. Vader wasn’t due back from his classified meeting until later in the evening. Luke would have the whole residence to himself. “Ow, ow, ow.” He smoothed the gel around on a bruise right below his arm and hissed at the chilly temperature.

The door opened, and Luke screeched as Vader stepped through. There was a set to his shoulder and an angle to his helmet that told Luke that he wasn’t pleased. He almost didn’t seem to care that Luke had seized a towel and wrapped it around is bar torso in an effort to regain some modesty.

“What happened?” Vader demanded, and Luke stared up at the mask, confused and terrified in one. 

“What?” 

“What happened,” the Sith repeated, stepping through the door and let it slide shut behind him. Luke felt more cramped in the refresher than he did in his closet onboard the Devastator. 

“It was a misunderstanding,” Luke blurted out as he held his towel closer. “Nothing important.” 

“Why did you not report it?” Vader demanded, and Luke refused to look up at him. 

“It isn’t like anyone would do anything anyway,” Luke retorted, feeling small and childish as Vader stepped even closer. “It's fine, sir.” 

“It is not acceptable,” Vader replied, “bring the med-kit and come with me.” 

“Sir!” 

“Now!” Vader snatched up the med-kit and almost yanked Luke from the refresher to his bedroom. The skyline of the city beyond briefly caught Luke’s attention before he was herded toward his bed and ushered to sit down. “Explain what happened.” 

“It wasn’t,” Luke dropped the towel slowly as he watched Vader rifle through the med-kit. “They don’t like me.” 

“The footage has already been reviewed,” Vader told him, “this motivation cannot be the only thing to inspire such violence.” 

“They don’t like that the girls of Court like me more,” Luke answered as Vader produced a set of Bacta infused bandages. “Those aren’t necessary, sir. I promise.” 

“Silence,” Vader ordered him quiet, so Luke sighed and felt vaugly uncomfortable as Vader began to wrap the bandages around his upper torso. “Continue.” 

“You said to be silent,” Luke pouted and yelped as Vader gave a tug on the bandages. The Sith was definitely glowering at him, and Luke gave an awkward smile. “They think that it's my fault that ladies of Court won’t pay attention to them anymore. I was warned the night of the Senate gala that I shouldn’t be alone while I’m on Imperial Center. There was a threat of an attack, but today there wasn’t much of a choice.”

“Who warned you?” 

“General Veers, sir,” Luke hissed a Vader tied the bandages in place. His upper torso was now wrapped, a bit excessively by his opinion, in bandages. He wondered by Vader bothered to help him at all. Luke could have done it himself. Vader always seemed a little too attentive to him. 

“It is fortunate you have recovered from your illness,” Luke felt his ears burn. The entire time he’d been recovering, Vader had been a little too attentive. He’d returned Luke to his proper duties two weeks after Luke was ready to return. He had pretty much ordered Luke to obey a bedtime, cutting back on his working hours while they were on the planet. Luke was probably the only aide in the entire Imperial military with a bedroom of his own. One with a million credit view like this, and for free. He felt spoiled, a far cry from his days of living in rebel hovels and shacks. “Else this would have been worse.” 

“Yes, sir.” Luke determinedly fixed his eyes on the other side of the room, staring at the wall as Vader hovered around him, applying bandages and soothing over the ones Luke had already applied. He was gentle, frighteningly so.

“The offending officers had been arrested and will be dealt with,” the Sith finally spoke up, and Luke nodded slowly. 

“There wasn’t a need, sir.” 

“Are you suggesting that I leave a member of my household without the explicit protection it offers?” 

“I’m the only member of your household,” Luke felt compelled to point out. He suddenly wondered if Vader had even an idea of how the other aides were usually treated. Other officers didn’t get halfway through adopting them. Certainly, Thrawn never helped Eli Vanto get his bruises wrapped up. Of course, Eli Vanto never got attacked. 

“My point stands,” Vader moved back, and Luke felt very small under his gaze. Why did Vader feel the obligation to do this? Why did he care? Why wasn’t Luke just another officer he had to deal with when he didn’t want to? What made him so special? “Given your discreet nature,” Vader began, and Luke glanced up, curious. “There is a message that is too dangerous to deliver through any other means than in person. You will be needed to courier a message to Governor Tarkin tomorrow.”

“Where is he stationed?” 

“A battle station on the outer rim.” Luke perked up. “This message is of the highest priority.” 

“I can handle it, milord.” 

“Be prepared to leave at 0800 from the hanger. Your escort will be waiting.” 

“Yes, sir.” Luke cast his eyes for his datapad, wondering if he would have time to finish his letter to Leia before he went to bed. 

“And speak to a medic before you leave.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“And for your unseemly interactions with Princess Organa.” 

“They’ve been very appropriate, sir.” Luke held up his bandaged hands, blushing, “and you said that I wasn’t allowed to associate anyone who wasn’t of the proper sort. Well, Leia is a princess, and she’s got a doctorate in political theory.” 

“Her father is suspected of rebel sympathies.” 

“Well, the other girls I’ve met are more interested in marriage than I am, and Princess Leia isn’t interested at all. The men,” Luke gestured to his injuries, “are a little angry.” 

Vader stared at him for a moment, “be ready to leave at 0800.” 

“Yes, sir,” Luke watched the Sith make an abrupt turn and talk out. As soon as he was gone, Luke flopped back onto his bed and sighed. He hurt all over, and his next mission was to deliver a message to Tarkin on the Death Star. On top of all that Vader was still watching him, getting somewhat attached. It frightened him. 

#$#$# 

Governor Tarkin felt deeply vindicated as the Death Star continued to orbit the tiny moon. Orson Krennic was a few paces behind, furious and seething. The sight and the potential capabilities of the battle station were staggering. It could be used to subjugate the entire galaxy. The rebellion wouldn’t stand a chance. 

He waited as he heard the doors open and someone walk through. 

“Excuse me,” Tarkin felt his eyebrows shoot up at the voice of Vader’s aide. He turned and spotted the young man just as he took the last few steps to the level he and Krennic were standing on. “Governor.” 

“Ensign Demoins,” Tarkin waved him closer, “a peculiar place to find you.”

“Yes, sir,” he glanced at Krennic and the approached, “I have a message for you, sir.” 

“Very well,” he blinked as the young man produced a folded piece of flimsi and handed it over. Tarkin watched him for a moment before breaking the seal and opening it. The short message was vastly interesting, but he decided to focus on the young man. “My oldest niece is quite taken with you, young man.” 

“Err,” he was blushing. Krennic made an undignified hissing noise behind them. 

“You do remember who she is,” Tarkin frowned when the young man nodded. 

“Yes, sir. She has a special interest in embroidery.” He seemed flustered, “I didn’t realize that there were so many types of stitching. I only learned three types; I didn’t realize there were over 30.” 

“Yes, she does have odd interests,” Tarkin watched him carefully. “Do drop her a line; she is very interested in getting to know you better.”

“Yes, sir,” he retreated at the wave of his hand. Tarkin finally focused on Krennic, who was still seething.

“Director Krennic, we are expecting a visit from the Emperor in two days. Get this battle station ready.” He didn’t notice the young man pause just before leaving; he was too occupied with the fit Krennic was throwing.

#$#$#$

Vader paced from one end of the room to the other. Turroo’s room was tidy, but there were still signs that someone lived in it. It was more comfortable than any other room in his residence. 

Why was he here? Why was he torturing himself with thoughts of Padme? Why did he continuously see the similarities between Padme and Turroo? Why? 

He must have gone mad. It was the only reason he was pacing around his aide’s room holding a scanner in his hand and debating whether or not to do a DNA comparison between his aide and Padme’s hair. 

The afternoon the Emperor had slapped him, Vader had only barely retrained from killing the man then and there. It was like seeing Padme being hit, being hurt for no other reason than existing. 

When he had returned from the headquarters covered in bruises and bleeding. Attacked for stupid reasons. 

Why did he care if dozens of the Court were obsessed and fascinated with him? Turroo Demoins was a good representative of Vader. He made Vader look good by being so approachable and pleasant. He was perfect to keep the Court distracted while Vader accomplished his goals. 

He was wasting his time. 

Vader turned to stomp toward the door and paused as he caught sight of the slightly open closet door. The outfits and suits seemed to glitter in the dim light. A memory flashed through his mind as he saw the image of Padme’s closet. 

She used to favor beautiful gowns and clothes. She loved fashion. Turroo seemed to favor it too. 

He whirled around and toward the bed, rummaging around until he found an errant hair. It would mean nothing, Vader thought, it was only to drive his madness away. It was only to keep himself from thinking that Padme had come back to life everytime Turroo moved just out of his line of sight. 

He would finally kill him when he stepped out of line. 

For a moment after he pushed the hair into the scanner and waited, counting the seconds until it would beep out a negative. 

It beeped and the screen was green. 

Vader blinked a few times, sure he was seeing things and punched in the command codes to rerun the test. 

It beeped and the screen was green. 

It was green the next three times Vader ordered the scan done. 

Slowly he sat down on the bed, staring at the screen in front of him and wondered if the machine was broken. 

How could he have had Padme’s son so close and not know who he was? How could he have the young man living a few rooms away, standing at his side for almost a year and no know? Why didn’t he know? 

He stood, ready to hunt the young man down and run a proper test when her jerked as the Force began to burn with agony. As if thousands of voices cried out and were silenced. Vader staggered to the side, all but collapsing on the bed as he felt the darkness lift from his shoulders. 

All as one the galaxy seemed lighter, it was easier to move, and Vader knew that his master was dead. 

#$#$#

Luke tightened his grip on the controls of the shuttle as hyperspace swirled around him. He didn’t know if his trap had worked. If his sabotage of the main reactor core was going to be enough to destroy the Death Star. He hoped that if it were then Tarkin and Palpatine would both be dead and the Empire would be easier to destroy. 

He felt like throwing up. He wanted to scream and cry. To hope that this was what the Rebellion needed. Destroying the Empire started with cutting the head off the rock snake. It started with leaving a hastily assembled bomb in the reactor core with a shaky timer. 

It was a miracle that it hadn’t gone off when Luke had attached it. 

Where to go? Where to go? He didn’t know if the Rebellion would take him back. They’d think he was a traitor for having served Vader so long. He couldn’t go back to Vader unless he wanted a quick execution. 

Where to go? 

He wasn’t sure where he could go. Who would take him in and let him stay or if it was time for Luke to strike out on his own? 

Obi-Wan. 

Luke bit his lip and shook his head. No, he wouldn’t go to Obi-Wan. Rigging the Death Star to blow was against everything the Jedi stood for. He would never allow him back. 

He sank into his seat as he began to cry, feeling more alone than he ever had in his life. 

#$#$#

“What has happened?” Vader stormed into the palace, scattering soldiers and officers until his eyes landed on Sate Pestage. “Explain!”

“The Death Star has been sabotaged,” Sate blurted, his looked shell-shocked. “It’s been destroyed; there were no survivors!” 

“Sabotaged!” Ice gripped his heart as his thought of Padme’s son. He had delivered a message a few days ago. Palpatine had followed. “Who has done this, do we have any leads?” 

“You mean you didn’t?” The palace paused, all eyes turned to Vader. 

“No,” Vader seized the man's throat, “this was not my doing.” He threw the man across the room, turning on the men and women watching. “Find who is responsible!” 

#$#$#$3

Grand Admiral Thrawn woke to the screaming klaxon alarm. He was out of bed and dressed in under two minutes. He was joined by Captain Piett as he stalked toward the bridge.

“What is the situation?” 

“The Emperor, Governor Tarkin, and several Grand Admirals have been murdered.” Thrawn drew up short. “They were aboard something called Project Stardust when it was sabotaged. Not sure yet who is responsible.” 

“Who is in command?” 

“Lord Vader,” Piett answered briskly, “he’s coordinating the response from the Imperial Palace, sir. Stock markets are frozen where they are for the next week. Our orders are to stand at the ready in case of Rebel attacks.” 

“Have any been reported?” 

“No, sir.” 

“Very well,” Thrawn emerged onto the bridge just as the holo was lighting up. 

“A message from Lord Vader,” the communications technician spoke up, “galaxy wide, broadcasting on every channel.” 

“Very good,” Thrawn felt his fingers twitch as he tucked his hands behind his back and waited for the holo to light up.” 

#$#$#

“Citizens of the Empire,” the holo-image of Darth Vader was just as terrifying now as it was the first time Cassian had seen it. “Emperor Palpatine is dead.” The rebellion around Cassian stared in shock before erupting in excited screaming. Vader, seeming to have anticipated this from his audiences, paused a decent amount of time before continuing. “This murder was done by a sabotager, and it is my promise to you that this saboteur will be found and brought to justice. An investigation has been opened into this murder. Do not panic.” With that, the holo cut off and Cassian could only gape and wonder what the hell had happened. 

#$#$# 

The afternoon sun was bright like it was pretty much every another day. Tatooine wasn’t a planet with decent weather, and no one tricked themselves into believing otherwise. 

Luke sort of wanted to believe that a rainstorm might pop up eventually. 

“Luke!” He turned to see Owen Lars standing at the doorway, hands on his hips. “You all there?” 

“I’m here,” he answered, “sorry, got distracted.” 

“It’s fine, come on. Your aunt wants your help in the kitchen today. So I’ll be fixing the vaporators.”

“Is it safe for you to be out there?” 

“As safe as it is to be here alone,” Owen replied as he led the way back into the little half underground compound. “She needs your help doing something with long-term storage.” 

“Alright,” Luke ducked into the kitchen, smiling warmly at Beru Lars who turned from the heat of the stove with a smile. 

“Luke,” she gestured him closer, giving him a kiss on the cheek when he obeyed. “Do you mind being stuck inside right now?” 

“Not at all,” Luke told her honestly. “I don’t mind helping do anything. You’re letting me crash on your couch.” 

“You’re our nephew,” Beru answered, “you’re our family, so you don’t have to act like that Luke. It's fine.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

“Hmph,” Beru sighed and ruffled his hair as Luke sat down. He averted his eyes, somewhat embarrassed. “It’s been almost a year, Luke. You should go out and see if you can make friends with any of the local children.” 

“I’m 19, Aunt Beru; I don’t know if we qualify as children.” 

“Doesn’t matter, that Darklighter boy is interested. He’s only 22.” 

“I don’t know, Aunt Beru,” Luke looked down at his clothes, almost able to see the dark uniform he’d worn. Almost able to imagine his rebel flight suit, almost able to feel the suits he’d worn to grand balls before he’d destroyed the Death Star. “I just.” 

“It’s alright, Luke.” She set a calloused hand on his shoulder, smiling kindly. “You don’t have to.” 

“I just, with everything. I don’t think that that would…wise.” 

“Alright, it’s just a suggestion.” 

Luke nodded wordlessly and continued to work on the bowl of vegetables that had to be prepared for dehydration. “Aunt Beru, when I showed up did you believe me?”

“Hmm?” 

“I mean, when I showed up, why did you let me stay?”

“You’re our family.” 

“But you didn’t really know that you don’t really know that.” Luke refused to look up as she took the seat opposite, setting her bowl of peas beside his.

“Luke, when Owen and I were first married we were ecstatic. We sent years and years trying for children, but we could never have one of our own. I used to dream about a little blond boy. He used to be so alone and unhappy, he was always alone, even as he got older.” Luke felt his eyes burn, and his throat close up. She set a hand on his. “He was so strong though, so beautiful and he cared so much. I saw him abandoned, and he still did what he thought was right.” 

“You.” Unbidden, tears slipped from his eyes. Luke bit his lip as Beru’s gentle hand rose from his han to his jaw and tilted his head upward. “Are our family, Luke. We would never abandon our family.”

“I just,” Luke sighed and swallowed down the lump in his throat. “I don’t have a lot of good experiences with family.”

“Hmm,” Beru stared at him a long moment and patted his cheek before removing her hand. “Do you miss anyone?” 

Beru didn’t know the details or the specifics. He’d only told them a few things, and it had been hard to hide his Imperial uniform before he’d burned it. 

“I miss…a girl.” 

“A girl?” 

“We were friends,” Luke clarified. “She was smart and intelligent and she had a temper that would stall a sun in it’s turning. We used to argue about everything, over letters, because we weren’t really allowed to communicate in any other way. We danced once, at a party.” He could see Leia, beautiful and strong and ready to tear down the Empire with her teeth and nails. “She dragged me away to go swing on a few swings.” 

“Swings?” 

“We had a moment of whimsy,” Luke ran his thumbnail over one of the cracks of the pea pod. “I don’t think anyone approved of our friendship, but I loved her. It was so weird, no matter how different we were it felt like we were always on the same wavelength. Like we were communicating faster and better than anyone else. Our minds felt like they were connected, and even though I didn’t know her…I knew her.” 

“She sounds lovely.” 

“She is. I don’t know where she is right now, but I hope she’s happy.” Luke thought about the long year behind him. When he’d left the Rebellion behind to hide on a remote rock, they would never think to look for him. Obi-Wan had always forgotten that Luke was raised as a spy, and that hiding information from him had never really worked. Discovering that he had an aunt and uncle by marriage on Tatooine was what tempted him more often than not to leave the rebellion. If he wanted to leave, he could have somewhere to go. 

That fact that Owen and Beru had let him in, let him stay, called him nephew and given him a home; never ceased to amaze him. Moisture farming wasn’t glamorous or beautiful; it wasn’t something people respected or cared about, but Luke was able to find a measure of peace in his life. 

He didn’t think anyone missed him anyway. 

#$#$#$#

In the year that had passed since his ascension into power, Vader was tormented with the thought of his son. Living so close, relying on Vader for everything, and yet so far away. As distant as a star. 

He didn’t even know his real name. Turroo was a disguise, a well-designed cover that could have only come from the rebellion. 

His son. He had lived with Vader, serving at his side. 

“Sire,” Vader waited as he felt Thrawn enter the room.

The power of the Sith, the power of the Empire was inconsequential to finding his son and bringing him back to his side. 

“What is it?” Vader tucked his hands behind his back as he turned. 

“Princess Leia Organa has arrived.” 

“Very well.” Vader considered Thrawn, “Our next objective is to wipe out the Hutts. Your work on the Outer Rim is second to none.”

“Thank you, your majesty.” 

“Set for Tatooine, we will celebrate the first anniversary of Palpatine’s death with the destruction of the evils he allowed to flourish.”

“Yes, your majesty.” Thrawn retreated from the room, and a moment later he felt Princess Organa stride into the room, furious.

“What is the meaning of this?” Leia demanded, seething as she came to a halt just a few feet away.

“You would speak to your Emperor with such tones?” Vader asked, prodding the Force around the young Princess. She didn’t look afraid; she didn’t feel afraid. She stared at him with a contemptuous glare. 

“I am not afraid of you,” she intoned, “why have I been summoned?” 

“Your father has tied with the rebel alliance,” Vader said simply, “you are my insurance he does not do anything foolish in the next few months.” 

“What?” she stepped back, clearly shocked, “You can’t do that!” 

“I can and I will,” Vader waved a hand, “no doubt the rebellion will seek Hutt weapons and money when the Hutts are attacked. They will respond to the call to fight against the Empire, despite standing for everything the Republic supposedly did not. To keep the rebellion from being supported and supporting the Hutts, you are acting as my political hostage.” 

“My father.”

“Will make the right choice, I am sure.” Vader didn’t seem interested in Leia anymore. “Someone will show you to your quarters.” 

“You cannot do this!” 

“I can, and I will.” Leia seethed as he was ushered from the room, and Threepio waited anxiously near the door. “

“Of dear, Princess Leia, we seem to have been arrested.” He shuffled along beside her as she followed the disinterested servant down the hall. “Are you alright?” 

“I’m fine,” Leia snapped, “it seems our gracious emperor,” she smeared the word around until it was as much of a stain as the man himself. “Has chosen me as a political hostage.” Which explained why Vader had been so polite when summoning her. “Where is Artoo?”

“I don’t know, Princess.” Threepio replied mournfully, “still missing probably.” 

“Alright,” Leia stormed into the room the servant had indicated, giving the man a nasty glare, which he ignored. 

“If you need anything, Princess, don’t hesitate to ask.” Leia gasped, someone, astonished as the man rolled his eyes as she stepped past him. 

“How rude.”

Leia had only a moment to process the smell in the room before she felt unbidden and bittersweet memories rise to the surface. It was a familiar musk, like paper, ink, and the regular Imperial shampoo. It was the regular smell of Turroo; his letters used to smell like him because he’d have to carry them in his inner coat pocket before sending them out. 

The room still carried traces of his presence, but not dust. There was a collection of plants beside the window, obviously still watered and cared for, a set of pens on the desk. A med-kit was sitting neatly on top of one of a small coffee table. The room looked as if it hadn’t been disturbed since Turroo had died. 

It was probably the only room in the entire residence that Vader had ready for use. Leia had a feeling that he’d forgotten it was here. 

Curious, she moved to the desk, opening the drawers and felt her eyebrows jump upward at the sight of her letters. They were neatly stacked and wrapped in a length of bright red ribbon. Leia wondered where he’d gotten it. As she lifted the stack up, she was astonished to see a loose letter. When she unfolded it she read her name on the top line and felt her throat close up. 

Princess,   
You are absolutely wrong, but I’m not going to explain why because you have a degree in political theory and ought to know better. I am not going to bother extending this conversation because I’ve been getting odd looks. I will tell you about my planet though. The little ones on my ships aren’t doing as well as the ones in my room. The botanist stationed here tells me that they need a UV light, which I’ll have to find next time I go planetside.   
Thank you for the socks, even though the pattern is hideous. Thankfully no one can see the pink nerfs on them when I wear my boots. The mouse droids love them; I’ve had to rescue my socks from being used as drapery. I didn’t realize droids could have a fashion sense, but I guess it takes all kinds to make a galaxy. 

The letter trailed off, and Leia sank slowly onto the seat as she began to cry. 

“Princess, Princess, what’s wrong?” Threepio clanked over. “Please tell what’s happened.”

“Nothing that hasn’t already made me cry,” Leia managed, sniffling miserably. She held up the letter, “I just miss Turroo.”

“I’m very sorry, Princess,” the droid patted her shoulder awkwardly, not realizing how uncomfortable the gesture usually was. 

“I’m sure he’s happier now,” Leia replied, “wherever he is.”

#$#$#

Luke brushed sweat from his eyes as he reached back into the guts of the complaining moisture vaporator. It was just as glitchy as Owen had told him and even more temperamental. 

It didn’t want to be repaired and stay repaired in the slightest. 

A sharp whistle caught his attention, and Luke turned from the machine, confused. His confusion turned to mind-blowing shock as a familiar blue and white astromech trundled over the sand-dune. 

“What the hell?” He jumped to his feet and was only able to stare as the droid rolled to a stop a foot away. “What the hell!” 

[Luke Skywalker] R2-D2 whistled, [Greetings.]

“Artoo?” Leia’s droid, her faithful companion. “What are you doing here?” Unable to stop himself, he dropped to his knees and wrapped the gleaming metal body in a hug. “Are you alright?”

[I am here for you.]

“Here for me? Why?”

[Princess Leia misses you.] The droid told him, and Luke gaped. [Your supposed death is the cause of significant grief.] 

“My death…how the hell do you know my name!” Artoo had only ever known him as Turroo.

[I always knew] Artoo whistled. [The day of the Death Star’s destruction, only one ship made it out of the system. Shuttle Riordium 234 Beta 290. Piloted by an unknown pilot. Only rebel agent in the area was Luke Skywalker, deep cover mission as Turroo Demoins.]

“They knew?”

[Luke Skywalker’s remaining living relatives: Owen Lars, Beru Lars.]

“Artoo, I don’t know what to say! High command knew who I was! They didn’t think that I’d defected! Did anyone even miss when I went missing? Did Obi-Wan notice? Did anyone care?”

In response, Artoo lit up a hologram. It was a section of the wall with an x-wing painted on. A very good likeness of Luke was painted just above. Luke’s name was inscribed just below. It was obviously some of Sabine Wren’s work. Someone had set a bundle of sunflowers right below it. 

“Oh,” he reached out, the hologram shivered as Luke traced the outline of his name. “Oh, stars.” He blinked back tears, leaning against the droid as he felt his throat freeze up. “They did miss me. They did care. You,” he rapped his knuckles against Artoo's dome, “you are a rebel spy. What a clever droid.” He kissed him, chuckling wetly. “How the hell did you even get out here? This is so far from the Core. Why would you come get me anyway?”

[Princess Leia grieves for you] The droid blatted impatiently. [Come.]

“Artoo, I can’t go now. I’m trying to fix this vaporator. Harvest is almost here, and I can’t leave Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru in a lurch. Besides, it’s been a year since I died. I’m happy where I am.” 

[You are needed.]

“No, I’m not,” Luke scoffed, “I’m not force sensitive. No one needs me since I can’t become a Jedi. I was a spy.” 

[People need Luke Skywalker.]

“No one needs me,” Luke sighed, he leaned against the droid. “Luke Skywalker is a moisture farmer, and I’m at peace with that. Sometimes I go to Toche Station to spend time with some of the other people in the area. I tell Uncle Owen I’m going to pick up power converters. I take the T-16 and go flying in Beggers Canyon. I get to fix up the moisture vaporators. Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru care about me a whole lot. I’m 19, and I spent most of my life as a rebel fighter. I was in deep cover for almost two years. I’ve destroyed the Death Star, and I’m tired Artoo. I don’t want to fight anymore. I just want to be Luke Skywalker, without the expectations of my father. Did you know here,” he gestured to the sand around them. “I’m only known as Shmi Skywalker’s grandson. A freeborn son of a slave. I dind’t know that my father was a slave when the Jedi found him. Uncle Owen told me that they used him to race in the Boonta Eve Classic. They bet on him, and in the end they go to take him. I guess…he and I were both weapons. Artoo,” Luke gave the dome a pat, “I don’t want to go back. Not now, maybe not ever.” 

[I will stay.]

“You don’t have to do that, Artoo. I won’t be offended if you go back to Leia. I’m sur she needs you.”

[Threepio is there.]

“Goldenrod? He kept complaining about propriety whenever Leia and I were together?” 

[Yes. I will stay with you.] 

“You don’t have to do that, Artoo.” Luke chuckled as Artoo buzzed angrily at him. 

[I will stay.]

“Only if you really want to,” Luke stood back up. “but you can’t tell them anything about my past. They don’t know who I was.” 

[You should tell them, but I don’t make decisions for you.] Artoo told him, Luke patted the bright dome again, smiling.

“Thanks for coming, Artoo.”

[I will always follow you, Luke Skywalker.] 

Luke wasn’t sure how Uncle Owen would react to the appearance of Artoo, but his worries were for nothing. Once Artoo demonstrated he could speak bocce, as well as help with minor repairs, he declared the droid could stay. His good-natured grumbling gave way when Luke swept him into a hug. 

“You need more friends,” Owen told him gruffly, glaring at the droid. “I suppose this will do.” 

“Be nice to, Artoo,” Luke told him, “he used to run over my feet when he got annoyed with me.” 

“I don’t tolerate any back talk,” Owen told the amused droid, “you behave in this house.” 

“He will,” Luke answered, and he had to think in some ways that Vader was less strict than Owen. The farmer had a schedule that seemed to last longer than the one Luke had kept as an aide. Up at down in bed by dusk. Usually, Vader had let Luke go back to his quarters with some time to spare to relax. He also, on his rare good moods, had tolerated Luke’s sarcasm a lot better than Owen did most days. 

“Alright, but you two better not be getting into any trouble.” Owen ignored the knowing grin of his wife. “Two troublemakers are exactly what moisture farmers like us need.” 

“I’m not trouble,” Luke scoffed, leaning away as Owen waved a hand his way. 

“Hmmph,” Owen crossed his arms and frowned at the young man. “We’ll see about that.”

#$#$#$3

“Sir,” Eli Vanto stepped up to Thrawn's side, his face wrinkled with concern. “The search parties on the planet have come across something very peculiar.” 

“What is it?” 

“A rebel x-wing, sir.” Eli handed him the datapad, the image on gave very little information, other than the fact it was stored in a cave. “It was well-hidden, and all information has been wiped except the last jump to Tatooine several days ago. We didn’t notice it enter the system. There is a flight suit in there as well, as well as emergency rations, but no signs of a pilot.”

“How peculiar,” Thrawn opened the report, reading the scant information available. “A ship without a pilot. What is the town nearby? “

“Anchorhead, sir.” 

“Have our spy go to Anchorhead and find this pilot. Anyone who is new to the area, anyone who seems off.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

Thrawn considered the datapad in front of him and pondered who it was going to be. “Communications, set up a holo call with his majesty.” 

“Yes, sir!” The communications officers began working away, and Thrawn walked to the nearby conference room as the call was connected. He gave a short bow, more than pleased that Vader had done awa with the most annoying of Palpatine’s habits. Such as kneeling in his presence, and offering numerous sorts of excuses for the call. 

“What is it?” 

“Sire, an x-wing has been discovered on Tatooine. My spies are being sent to discover who it might belong to. I am not sure if this speaks of a larger rebel incursion or if this is merely happenstance.” 

“Do not make any drastic motions of an attack,” Vader ordered instantly, “find this pilot, and do not alert the Hutts to your presence. Arrest them, and remove the x-wing.” 

“Yes, sire.” Thrawn bowed again as the call was disconnected. 

 

343434 

Leia had pawed through the closet, identifying some of Turroo’s outfits he’d worn to parties and balls, and sighed as she considered how beautiful most of them. He had been so handsome, and since Vader hadn’t let her bring any clothes or having any sent over, she’d had to pick what she could wear.

“WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS!” Leia let go of a tunic as she heard Vader shout from the room. He was standing in the middle of the room, hands on his hips and furious. 

“What?” Leia emerged from the closet, trying to look presentable, and not as if she’d spent most of the afternoon crying after a dead man. “Why are you shouting?” 

“You are not to be in here!” He thundered, “these rooms were to be kept empty.” 

“This was where the man showed me. This is where I have been for two days.” She mirrored his pose, glowering. 

“What?” Vader reared back, “what are you wearing!” 

It was a silver suit, with a decent sized belt. Thankfully Turroo had been on the small side, so it wasn’t too over-sized. A few moments of clever tucking and pinning had made it fit. 

“A suit, you wouldn’t let me bring any clothes, remember?” He could kill her and no one would do anything. It was probably in her best interest that she was polite and agreeable. Still, she threw her shoulders back and glowered at him. “I had to pick something to wear.” 

“These clothes are not yours to wear! This room is not yours to use. Remove yourself immediately.” 

“And sleep where?”

“In a cell, if you do not mind your tongue!” 

Leia jerked back, surprised. “Why would you keep this room sealed away?” 

“Who showed you this room?” 

“Is it because you actually cared about him? Because you liked Turroo? Are you mourning him?” Leia’s mind spun, “is this your only remembrance of him? The plants are still watered, the room has been dusted, but I don’t think anyone has really been in here.”

“GET OUT!” Vader seized her arm, yanking her from the room and as the door slid shut behind them, she was finally afraid. She was also very angry.

“You are not the only one who misses him!” She shouted, “you aren’t not the only one who cared for him.” 

“Who showed you this room?” 

“How can you be like this? Turroo is dead! You allowed him to die! You let him die!” Leia gave a short scream as she was hoisted into the air, Vader having seized the front of the suit. 

“I would never harm my son! Had I any indication the sabotage was planned he would have been confined to this very room!” Her breath caught in her throat and Vader let her back down, slowly. 

“You did have plans to adopt him! I thought the rumors were exaggerated.” 

“I would not have had to adopt that which already mine.” Vader told her, “my son in every manner.” 

“Impossible,” she tilted her head up, glowering even as Vader seemed to give her a sterner look. 

“Is this so difficult to believe?” 

“Yes!” Leia shouted, “YES! He was my best friend! He would have told me! How could he have not told me!” 

“It is possible that he was not aware of this fact.” Vader had a deeply unpleasent thought, for the first time he considered how Turroo had ended up at his side. 

True, it had been Piett’s idea to assign the boy to his as an aide. Vader had not been influenced in his decision to conscript him. 

However. He remembered the night of the dance party there had been two arrests made. Turroo, and a rebel agent. 

“You will keep this information to yourself,” Vader ordered, “else you will suffer mightily for your indiscretion.” 

“But.” 

“You are already in danger,” Vader told her, “as a rebel has infiltrated Tatooine and until they are discovered any wrong move by your father’s cohorts will result in your untimely demise.”   
“You wouldn’t dare!” 

“Your rebellion is far less popular than it was under Palpatine’s rule.” 

“It’s stupid to assume my father would agree to work with Hutts! They are a foul people with foul rules.” 

“It has not stopped them from gaining allies, never assume that morals have anything to do with politics. You will be shown a different room, do not re-enter that one. As soon as your clothes have come, you will return that suit.” 

“Very well.” Leia glowered at the mans retreating back, and when he was gone, she turned around and kicked the door to the bedroom. 

“Princess,” Threepio came around the corner, “what’s wrong? What is it?” 

“It’s nothing, Threepio. It’s nothing.”

#$#$#

Luke sat back on heels as he slapped the cover of the power box back into place. “There you go,” he glanced up at Camie, “it’s fixed.” 

“Really?” She leaned over his shoulder, and Luke caught a whiff of spicy perfume. She smiled brightly as Luke turned his head to the side, “it broke after the last time you fixed it, Luke.” He noticed her neatly braided her, the scant make-up around her eyes, and her new looking dress. 

“Well,” he sighed a bit, “that might be because you sabotaged it.” 

“What?” She was blushing, and Luke rolled his eyes. 

“Camie, if you wanted to talk to me you don’t have to break your equipment. Also,” he pointed at the power box, “you know how to fix this. You didn’t need to call me up.” 

“Errr,” she grinned bashfully, in a way Luke was painfully familiar with. “I just hoping to invite you over.” 

“Oh, you don’t need to break thing for that. If you wanted to spend time together, I’d be more than willing. Uncle Owen is always telling me that I need new friends.” 

“Right,” her mouth worked up and down, “friends. You do need new friends,” her smile had a bitter tilt to it. “Are you going straight home after this?” 

“I think so; Uncle Owen said that the treadmill droid needs to be repaired and Artoo is getting annoyed with it.”

“Pah, your uncle is so strict. He always has you working.” 

“The farm has needed some extra workers for a while,” Luke reminded her, “and a year hasn’t been enough time to catch up on everything.” 

“No, probably not.” 

#$#$#4

There were two sorts of bars on Tatooine, Kallus thought, ones that preferred criminals as its clientele and ones that preferred farmers. 

“So,” he drained the shot glass of water, glancing at the man beside him. “Anyone in these parts hiring?” 

“For what?” The farmer snorted, “fertilizer? The only people who come here looking for a job are bounty hunters.” 

“Not me,” Kallus dropped his head to the table, sighing, “not me.” He hoped he looked despondent enough that the man would answer. He was right. 

“What happened?” 

Kallus started the story out slow, adding details and long pauses when he thought the story needed embellishing. It was more or less true, which made it more believable. By the time Kallus was done the farmer had bought him another shot of water and was patting his back. 

“The only one who was really looking for help was Owen Lars, and some nephew showed up out of the blue. Don’t associate with the likes of him though.” 

“Nephew? Out of nowhere? How’d they know it wasn’t a scam?” 

“I have no idea; Luke came in like a whirlwind. Like moofmilker, heartbreaker too. My nieces and nephew are all over this kid.” 

“Huh,” that sounded like someone Kallus once knew of. 

“He’s all over the place, fixing stuff and being pretty. But he’s a Skywalker; I wouldn’t interact with him at all.” 

“Skywalker? He’s been here for a year?” 

“Yeah, but Owen Lars still needs help. They probably won’t pay you well, but you’ll have a place to stay and food to eat.”

“Where can I find these Larses?” 

“Not far out of Anchorhead, just go south on a landspeeder about 20 minutes, you’ll see a boulder that looks like a big nose, makes a 45 degree turn to the west from there and keep going about another 23 minutes. You won’t miss if you stick to the directions.” 

“Sure, sure,” Kallus sighed, and he dragged himself upright, “thanks for the information, pal.” 

“No problem,” the farmer went back to his drink, and Kallus stumbled out of the bar. As soon as he was back in his ship, he commed Thrawn. The alien didn’t seem impressed with his outfit, but to blend in with dirt poor moisture farmers, he had to look the part. “Sir, there have been reports of someone arriving about a year ago. A man by the name of Luke Skywalker, he lives with his uncle and aunt not far out of town.”

“A year ago?” 

“Yes, sir. It’s possible that the ship has been there a year.” 

“Luke Skywalker,” Thrawn pursed his lips and finally nodded, “well done, Agent Kallus. Locate this Skywalker, speak to him and if he is a rebel agent bring him directly to me.”

“Yes, sir.” 

When the call disconnected, Thrawn turned from the holo and frowned at Eli. “Do you recognize a name like Luke Skywalker?” 

“No, sir.” 

“I do,” Thrawn pursed his lips, “I knew a man with the last name Skywalker, we interacted on many occasions before the Clone Wars ended. There was also a report,” Thrawn pursed his lips, “fetch me the report of Lord Vader’s arrested in Year 13, eight month and day while he was on the planet of To’geo.”

“Yes, sir.” 

Thrawn waited until his ensign was gone before he brought up his data files and filtered through them until he found the file he was looking for. A few minutes later Eli returned and handed it over. 

“This report,” he held up the older one, “details two men who had been arrested. One on the suspicions of being a rebel agent, and the other of insulting Lord Vader. The second young man was sent to study at an Imperial academy, and he served as Lord Vader’s aide before he was killed when the Death Star exploded.”

“Yes, sir.” 

“This,” Thrawn held up his datapad, “is a report from the rebellion, discussing a missing agent. They identify this missing agent as Luke Skywalker and say he was arrested at the same party.” 

“Sir!” Eli’s eyes were bright and wide. “You don’t think.” 

“Luke Skywalker was Ensign Demoins? It seems there is a possiblity; else there is another man serving the rebellion with the same name. Which I doubt.” There was something depressingly sinister about Luke Skywalker and his transformation to be Turroo. Something cruel about the way Lord Vader had had his son at his side all along.

Perhaps Vader hadn’t known, but he had given Turroo many more gifts than was usually appropriate. He favored him and a few others. It was as if he had known that his aide was his son. Vader had stayed by his side when he was ill. Vader had dealt harshly with the officers who had attacked the young man. No matter how elaborate and generous the offers had been, Vader had never agreed to marry the boy to anyone. 

Did he know that Turroo was Luke and that Luke was his son?

“Well,” Eli stuck his hands on his hips, “if he is Turroo then he may know what Kallus looks like.” 

“That is true,” Thrawn nodded, “well noticed, Eli. Comm, the squad commander. Tell them to join up with Kallus when he arrests Luke Skywalker. I want no mistakes.” 

“Yes, sir.”

#$#$#$

Luke thought that his favorite daydream of his was eating the cake from Alderann, sharing a cup of tea with the princess and having a long conversation about the different types of donuts they like. Something simple, easy to imagine. It made him feel better. 

“Aunt Beru,” he spotted a strange landspeeder parked outside the dome and hopped from his own speeder before hurrying down the steps. Someone’s coat was slung over a chair, and Aunt Beru and Uncle Owen were talking in low voices. “Who’s here?” 

“Someone looking for a job,” she answered, “we sent him to the refresher in the workroom, but I don’t think we’ll be able to hire him on. He seems a little dangerous.” 

“Alright,” Luke glanced around the room, something wrong. 

“I’ll go talk to him. What’s his name?” 

“Called himself Tim.” 

“Fake,” Luke whistled, “Artoo?” 

“In the workroom, keeping an eye on him.” 

“Good idea, no one wants to cross a cranky droid.” Luke gave a smile, but his aunt and uncle seemed too stiff, too worked up. He headed down the hallway and across the compound until he reached the workroom door. 

He had only a moment to register the fact that it was too dark, not even the blinking lights from Artoo before someone behind him shoved just as a white armored hand reached through the open door and seized his shirt. He catalogued three stormtroopers in desert ware shoved him to the ground before he could shout, over the struggling and yelping he heard the door slide shut. 

The light turned on, and Luke was yanked upward to stare at a familiar face. Agent Kallus in dusty clothes, looking like every other vagabond on Tatooine, stared at him. His eyes tracked over Luke’s face, noting the details and he gave a rather sinister smile. 

“Mr. Smith.” 

“What’s going on? What have you done to my aunt and uncle?”

“Your aunt and uncle won’t be harmed so long as you cooperate. We found your ship, Mr. Smith,” Kallus seemed darkly pleased by his discovery of Luke’s identity. “Well hidden, don’t worry, your droid is fine too.” 

“What?” 

Luke had sold the shuttle he’d stolen from the Empire. 

“I have been instructed to bring the rebel back to the ship, and you’re coming with me.” 

“No,” Luke glanced at the troopers, “no. I won’t.” He couldn’t. Vader would kill him. Vader would torture him for days and kill him. 

“Of course you are, Mr. Smith. If that is your real name. You were Turroo Demoins for a while, Luke Skywalker? How many names do you have?” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“You know exactly what I’m talking about, Mr. Smith.” Kallus nodded to the third trooper, “cuff him, and get the droid ready for transport.”

“Get off of me!” Luke twisted in their grip as he was dragged from the work-room and back into the compound. Halfway across his uncle and aunt rushed out, followed closely by another trooper. “Aunt Beru!” 

“What are you doing! Let my nephew go!” 

“Your nephew is a rebel and a criminal. He has committed several crimes against the Empire that he has yet to answer for.” 

“The Empire doesn’t exist out here,” Owen snapped, stepping forward aggressively, only to have the troopers raise their weapons. 

“It does, I’m afraid. You see, I’ve arrested him before you’ve eluded me for so long. Five years, 21 years old and the most wanted criminal in the galaxy.” 

“I am not,” Luke replied snappishly, “I’m 19, and no one wants me. Uncle Owen,” he glanced over at the man, refusing to acknowledge the despair in his eyes. “I’m sorry, but you can’t…” 

“Stop me?” Kallus suggested, and Luke glowered at him. 

“Luke,” Aunt Beru covered her mouth, glancing between Kallus and Luke, “you can’t go.” 

“I have to,” Luke bowed his head slightly, “it’s alright, Aunt Beru.” He turned to Kallus, “you don’t need to threaten them.” 

“Perhaps,” Kallus sneered at the Larses, “get him aboard the ship. I have a report to make. You two,” he pointed at Beru and Owen, “had best hope you aren’t arrested for associating with a rebel spy.” With a smiling nod, he and the stormtroopers left the farmers behind, dragging their unwilling prize. 

#$#$#$

“Has he said anything?” Thrawn glanced through the observation window at the blond man in farmers clothes. 

“No, sir.” Kallus seemed too gleefull, “but I’ve arrested him previously. He was one of the voice actors for the movie ‘A Bridge Away.’ He attacked several of my men and injured them. His name is in several reports which means that.” 

“Not what I wanted to know, Agent Kallus. I want to know if he has spoken about anything relevant.” 

“Sir, he hasn’t spoken, but even if he hasn’t spoken, he will still be convicted. He is a spy.” 

“Was a spy, it seemed he wanted to leave such a life behind to be a farmer.”

“Well,” Kallus seemed confused, “sir.”

“Even if he is a spy,” Thrawn shook his head, “it will not matter. I will speak to him.” Thran waved the door to open and stepped through. The young man shifted in his seat and glanced up, but said nothing. It wasn’t too odd. Obviously Thrawn recognized him. “I must say, your blond hair is much more fetching than brown, it suits you better. Blue eyes as well? Contacts? Implants?” 

“Hello?” Skywalker straightened, squaring his shoulders, “why are you here?” 

“Finding you was great luck,” Thrawn took the seat opposite, noting the lack of bruises around his wrists. “You seem to have resigned yourself, Skywalker.” 

“Death is inevitable in my line of work.” 

“Speaking of, I am a great admirer of your work on the film ‘A Bridge Away.” 

“Really?” He looked doubtful, which Thrawn didn’t blame him for.

“A little tasteless, but the film was well-made, and your skills as a voice actor is magnificent.” 

“You watched it?” 

“Everyone aboard my ship watched it. I believe there are still bootleg copies around the ship, which I pretend don’t exist. It is also very funny.” 

“I tried.” 

“Certainly you succeed, but my own crew did not suffer near as much as Lord Vader’s did.” 

“And?” 

“I enjoyed the political commentary,” Thrawn admitted, watching the drawn blue eyes carefully. Skywalker seemed as tired and resigned as an elderly patient on their deathbed. “It was poignant for the time it was made.” 

“It was made about four years ago.”

“Yes, which was a different time. Emperor Vader has done more of what Palpatine ever did. Keeping the promises that the late emperor did not.” 

“Like what? Enslaving whole planets because they disagree with them? Murdering countless people?” 

“And you would know murder, wouldn’t you?” There was a flash of pain in the bright blue eyes before he lowered them back to the table.

“We have both washed our hands in blood, Grand Admiral.”

“This is true,” Thrawn tapped his fingers against the table, wondering what the boy would reveal and what he would try to hide. “I suppose my congratulations to you as well. You managed to stay deep cover within the Empire at Vader’s side far longer than any other rebel agent. As his aide no less.” 

Skywalker didn’t respond; he kept his eyes fixed on the table. 

“I wonder how you survived the Death Star’s explosion, Skywalker. The only survivor of its destruction. I wonder how?” Thrawn tilted his head to the side, “how? It doesn’t matter if you answer now. I am sure Lord Vader will find his answers eventually.” Thrawn stood, catching the way that the boy's jaw flexed and his swallowed hard. 

Kallus was waiting outside the room, frowning. “Sir, that gave us no information. What was the purpose?” 

“On the contrary, Kallus, we discovered a great deal. Have Skywalker drugged and returned to Imperial Center, sent directly to Lord Vader. We cannot allow his to have any chance to escape.” 

“Yes, sir. If we cant to get some answer, perhaps some enhanced interrogation techniques. “

“No, Lord Vader was explicit. The rebel pilot was to be sent to him without injury. I do not want anything to happen to him.” 

“Yes, sir.” Kallus’s voice was bitter, but he saluted. 

“If anything happens to the pilot between here and Lord Vader,” Thrawn said, voice edging into a snarl, “the blame will fall entirely on you, Agent Kallus. You may explain to his majesty why his prize had been injured.” Now the ISB agent swallowed hard and nodded. “Very well, there is no need to be petulant, Kallus. It is in your best interest that you do not give Skywalker a reason to dislike you.”

“May I ask why?” 

“You may not.” 

#$#$#$#

Being Emperor was odd, but not so different from being Supreme Commander of the Imperial Forces. A title he still retained but had almost no time for. His time was spent dealing with politicians and criminals. Doing his best to eradicate the most infuriating of Palpatine’s indulgences but removing most of the corrupt senators, the backstabbing officers and Moffs, and the crime syndicates that had flourished during Palpatine’s reign. Having the absolute loyalty of the military had ensured that his ascension to power had been unchecked. Once Palpatine had died his officers had all but thrown him on the throne, eager to keep another scheming politician from taking power. 

All the power in the galaxy meant nothing to him without his son. His only child. 

“Your majesty?” Piett coughed behind him. Vader turned from his ruminations of the city-scape to the younger man. “Grand Admiral Thrawn had successfully captured the rebel pilot from Tatooine. He is being sent here directly for you to deal with.” 

“Have they identified the pilot?” 

“I don’t know, sir. Grand Admiral Thrawn sent information along with the pilot, but not ahead of the pilot.” 

“Very well.” Vader turned back to the window, considering what his son might have thought of his new title. Had Vader known his son had been at this side he would have made him emperor within moments of Sidious’s death. 

“Also, Senator Organa has requested a meeting with you, sire. He will not say what it is about, but he has been very insistent.” 

“Very well, send him a message that I will meet him tomorrow.” 

“He is here already, your majesty.” 

Vader nodded, “then send him in.”

“Very good, sire.” Piett retreated, and Vader tucked his thumb into his belt and wondered what Organa would want. He had cooperated exactly as Vader ordered once he’d taken the princess. Leia Organa was a special kind of obnoxious, infuriating Vader at every turn. Challenging his ideas and orders with exact logic and rhetoric, she could have only learned from her parents. 

“Lord Vader,” Bail Organa hustled into the room, relieved and frightened. He offered a shallow bow which Vader waved off. 

“What do you want, Senator?” 

“My daughter, is she alright?” 

“She has been grounded to her room for excessively annoying behavior, but is otherwise unharmed.” 

“I assure you she means no disrespect.” 

“Do not speak for your daughter, Senator. At 19 years of age, she is perfectly capable of her own decisions. She has been disrespectful and takes pride in it.” 

“I’m sure if she knew the truth she would not be so irritating to you, Lord Vader. My daughter has been…” 

“If you are here to plead for clemency then no doubt your Rebel Alliance is poised to do something extremely stupid,” Vader said, and Organa shook his head desperately. 

“You have a temper, and I fear you may take it out on my daughter. She is…”

“A shrew?” Vader supplied, and Bail shot him an ugly glare.

“She is a princess, Lord Vader.”

“What do you want, Organa, get to the point.” 

“My daughter to be safe, even if I must.” He paused, and Vader watched him curiously. “As you know my daughter was adopted. Her mother died in the early days of the Empire, and she left behind Leia and,” he seemed to steel himself, “Luke.” 

“Twins?” 

“Yes,” Bail wrung his hands together and seemed worried. “Luke and Leia. They were in contact for a single year before he died. They were separated at birth for their safety; their parents were political dissidents.” 

“Then why are you speaking to me of this?” 

“Because their mother was,” Organa seemed to waver, he stared past Vader at the lights beyond the window. “Their mother was Padme Amidala.” 

Vader stared at Bail Organa long enough to consider murdering him before he remembered that Leia was his daughter and kill him would disappoint her. Still, he seized the man's shirt and dragged him to eye-level, shaking him. 

“HOW DARE YOU HIDE MY CHILDREN!” He roared, “MY SON WAS AT MY SIDE FOR A YEAR, AND YOU SAID NOTHING!” 

“It wasn’t safe!” Organa gasped, “Luke.” 

“I am aware he was a rebel spy,” Vader dropped the senator, disgusted, “his politics do not interest me. My son is more precious than anything. I would trade his life for the Empire if given the opportunity.” 

“I’m telling you this because if the rebellion acts without my support, I feared you would take it out on my daughter.” 

“My daughter,” Vader snapped, and he considered just how alike Luke and Leia looked. Her brown hair was a few shades darker, but their eyes were the same shape and color. They both rolled their eyes in the same way when annoyed with him. While Leia was free with her opinions and ideas, Luke had been forced to maintain his cover, and Vader truly didn’t know his son. “This explains your lack of concern with their close friendship.” 

“Even if they weren’t twins, Leia always told me that her affection of him was sisterly. They are siblings, and even if Luke is dead, then I am grateful they had a chance to know each other.” 

“Why were they separated?” 

“To keep them safe from you and the Emperor,” Organa told him, rising to his feet and brushing down his clothes. “Luke was taken by…”

“Who raised him?” Vader had to force himself not to hit the man again. “Who poisoned him against me?” 

“Obi-Wan raised him until we discovered until we discovered that Luke was not force sensitive.” 

“He was abandoned?” 

“Of a sort, Luke was 12 when they were finally definitive about it and Obi-Wan, I did not agree with him, Obi-Wan left him behind to fight the Empire. Luke was left, and eventually fell in with the spies.”

“Typical of Obi-Wan, as soon as he cannot use someone, he leaves them.” Vader clenched his fists, the glass of the window bulged outward. “Is Leia similar?” 

“Leia is not force sensitive.” 

“It does not matter,” Vader forced himself to calm down, “the galaxy is hers to inherit. She will remain here, with me. We will prepare immediately for her to take the throne.” 

“WHAT?” 

“She is capable, is she not? She has several degress in political theory, she is experienced and intelligent. She is Padme’s daughter, and thus suited to rule.” 

“Leia is 19! She is too young to rule, and I won’t let you use her as a puppet!” 

“Padme ruled at 14.” 

“Padme ruled a planet, a single planet. You can’t just hand anyone the Empire like a Life Day present!” 

“Why not, I have missed 19 years of her life. I will miss no more.” 

“Wait, you said you already knew who Luke was,” Bail glanced at him, “how did you know?” 

“His resemblance to his mother was uncanny. To calm my madness, I did a test. It came back positive, but I learned this the very day he died in the Death Star explosion.” 

“You,” Bail sobered, “the same day he died?” 

“Yes,” Vader hated the soft understanding his Organa’s eyes. “He was murdered by whoever destroyed the Death Star.”

“Oh,” Bail fidgeted, “Leia isn’t ready to lead the Empire, and she.” 

“She will remain in the here anyway. She is my daughter, and I will not be separated from her again. You will not disagree on this.” 

“She isn’t used to the Imperial lifestyle, Lord Vader.” 

“You are fortunate I have not executed you for treason, Organa, do not push your luck. I will have my daughter remain at my side. Disagree, and you will suffer the consequences I am only just remaining from delivering.” Organa swallowed hard. “And your rebel pilot on Tatooine is on his way here, and I will have the information I need.” 

“As long as Leia agrees,” Bail nodded, “then I will obey. I don’t care about your authority, but I won’t let Leia be manipulated and used.”

“As she already had been?” Vader demanded, seething. Bail shook his head. 

“I haven’t manipulated my daughter. You’ve met her; no one can command her to think what she thinks.” 

“That is true,” Vader agreed, Leia was headstrong and determined. Vader didn’t think even the threat of violence would dissuade her. “We must speak to her, she mourns Luke, even now.” 

“She spent days after the news broke crying. Her position isolated her, and he was a good friend. I,” Organa sighed, “I never knew him.”

“My son may have destroyed the Death Star, but to keep the evidence contained he might have stayed aboard. To consider that my son spent his last few minutes preparing to die for the likes of Kenobi disgusts me more than I can say.” Vader waved toward the door, “we must inform her. This is not information we can keep from her.”

“There is something you must know, Vader. Luke wasn’t not naturally a brunette. His hair was blond, and his eyes were blue.” 

“More deceit,” Vader muttered without heat. His son was as much of stranger as any other aide might have been.

“To protect him, there were no holos taken,” Organa continued painfully aware of the grieving the man in front of him was suffering from. He had felt the ache in his chest when Luke had died; it was as if the young man was his son. 

“Very well, come Organa, we will explain this to our daughter.” 

#$#$#$

Leia hadn’t given up Turroo’s room; even if she’d been assigned somewhere else, she kept returning. The bed was more comfortable for one, but there was also something comforting about being surrounded by the memory of her friend. It wasn’t healthy; she knew that, but being interned in Vader’s house was too much some afternoons. 

Besides, if he thought she was going to stay in her small room, he was crazy. 

Halfway through her reading of a book on the marine biology of animals on Naboo; the door slid open. Leia stood, whirling around as Vader and her father stepped through. She noted Bail’s mournful expression. 

“I thought you might be here,” Vader began, and for once he didn’t sound angry. 

“I am not a child, Lord Vader. I won’t be treated like one.” 

“It is just as well,” Vader intoned, and he paced slowly into the room. “Your father has information.” 

“What information?” Bail looked more upset, and he stepped around Vader, reaching for her. 

“Leia, we’ve lied to you.” 

“What have you done?” She took his hand, glancing between the two men. “Father!” 

“When you were born, on the very day the Republic fell you were not alone. You have a twin brother.” 

“A twin!” 

“A twin brother you’ve met,” Bail continued, his grip on her hands became iron, and he didn’t let go. “You’ve spoken to him many times, and you used to send him dozens of letters.” Bail glanced around the room, and Leia understood.

“How could you!” She screamed, yanking her arms away and turning to stare the room. Her bother’s room. “How could you lie to me? How could you keep my brother from me? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“That’s not all.”

“My brother is dead!” She shouted, “and I didn’t even know he was my brother!”

“Luke is dead,” Bail agreed, “but your father is alive.” 

“My father?” Halfway to tears, she covered her mouth, horrified. “How can he be alive.” 

“Your father,” Bail stepped back, and Vader was revealed. 

“What? This doesn’t make any sense! Turroo, Luke was your aide for a whole year! How did you not know him! How did you not know me!”

“I believed you dead when your mother passed,” Vader replied slowly, “I learned of Luke the very day he died. You have mourned your friend, and I have mourned my son.” 

“How did you Luke even end up as your aide anyway?” 

“He was a rebel spy.” 

“But he’s dead.” Leia pulled away from both men, “but he’s dead, and I will never get to know him. Why did you wait until now to tell us?” She glowered at Bail; he had the grace to look ashamed. 

“I was afraid Vader would take his anger out on you. That he would hurt you, because of me. I do not control the rebellion and people in it act without my council. I would never put you in danger, Leia, but there are those in the rebellion who would.’ 

“But Luke told me, he told me what it was like when he grew up. He was miserable and alone, why didn’t you adopt both of us?” 

“We thought you would be safer separate. Luke was raised by Obi-Wan, and we took you in.” 

“You didn’t make it safer! We were both alone! We wanted friends! Now Luke is dead and,” She glanced at Vader, not sure if she could admit out loud that Vader was her father. Leia sat down on the bed, feeling a little overwhelmed and frightened. “What now?” 

“Leia,” Vader took a step forward. “There is…an opportunity. For you to bring a change to the galaxy. The chance it has needed for generations. You are my daughter, you are also Padme Amidala’s daughter, and you are the adopted daughter of the Organa’s. You have a wealth of knowledge and power and experience.” 

“And?”

“Remain with me, remain as my daughter and the title of Crown Princess is yours.” 

“What? Crown Princess? Are you mad?” She stepped away, “I can’t be…the Crown Princess.” 

“You can,” Vader pressed, “royalty is in your veins, it is your life already.” 

“I need time to think,” Leia leaned turned away. “I learned I have a brother who's already dead. I can’t think of anything. Father,” she looked at both Vader and Bail, “I need time to think.” 

“Very well, Princess,” Vader shook his head as Bail tried to step forward. “If you have questions, ask for me. I will come.” They retreated from the room, leaving Leia in silence. In said silence, she dropped to her knees and leaned against the bed as she cried; her heart breaking all over again.

#$#$#

“Get up, rebel,” Luke jolted away, feeling the metal bars his head rested on rattle as Kallus kicked them “You’re presenting yourself to Emperor Vader on your feet.” 

“You should bring a mop,” Luke stood, stretching out as best he was able despite the manacles on his wrists. “It’ll be easier when Lord Vader kills me.” 

“I will have the men have one standing by,” Kallus told him, sneering as Luke stepped into the hallway and troopers surrounded him. “Follow me, rebel.” 

Luke blinked a few times and tried to calm his racing heart. How would Vader react to him? Would he kill him without an explanation? Would he wait to kill him? A small, traitorous part of his mind hoped that Vader would miss him. As he followed Kallus down from the ship and into the heart of the Imperial Palace, he noted the back hallways they took. 

Perhaps Vader was avoiding making a scene. Whatever the Imperials were planning on Tatooine probably needed to stay a secret. 

As he was escorted into a small room, bare walls and now windows, Luke sucked in a deep breath. He waited as Kallus left, holding his datapad to his chest.

“You seem like a nice kid,” one of the troopers spoke up, “trying to get out of the war. Sorry about this whole mess.” 

“It doesn’t matter,” Luke shrugged, “I should have known better than to try and run from my past. Anyway, as long as my aunt and uncle aren’t hurt then, it’s worth it.” 

“You could make a plea deal,” the second one spoke up, “Vader’s a much better emperor. He might be more willing to let you off the hook if you.” 

“It won’t happen,” Luke shook his head, “trust me on this one, but it was nice of you to suggest that.” 

“I don’t get why Kallus has such a grudge against you. I mean, sure the rebels are a pain, but you tried to get out and start a new life. I mean, you got out.” 

“No one ever really escapes that life.” 

#$#$#$#

“Your majesty,” Agent Kallus seemed to be far too gleeful as he stepped up to the desk. The aides around Vader stepped back. “I have brought back the pilot located on Tatooine, as requested. Evidence suggests he could have flown there over a year ago.”

“Very well,” the Sith stood, “where is the information?”

“Here, your majesty. I have delivered the pilot unharmed as you ordered. He is waiting under heavy guard nearby.” 

“Well done, Agent Kallus,” Vader accepted the datapad and moved around the table to the door. He didn’t take a look at the datapad as he moved down the hall. Kallus scanned the door open, and Vader lifted his head to take in the sight of the slight figure with blond hair, wearing heavy chains surrounded by troopers. 

Luke Skywalker.

It was impossible to mistake the face and the figure. Vader had memorized the youthful face, which was older now, leaner, but it looked as if his son had put on weight. 

“Lord Vader,” Luke squared his shoulder, looking for all the galaxy like a condemned man. “I understand you wanted to see me.”

“LEAVE US!” Vader roared, and Kallus and the troopers fled the room as fast as possible. As soon as they were gone, he stormed across the room. Luke took a few hasty steps back, hindered by his chains. It didn’t matter. As soon as he was within grabbing distance, Vader seized his son and pulled him into a hug. 

Luke was too stunned to do anything with Vader arms wrapped around him to do anything besides hand there, his toes barely scraping the ground. 

“Little one,” the deep bass was tilted with grief and relief, an enormous hand moved from his back to the back of his head. “You are alive.” 

Luke stared at the black armor, confused and somewhat awed. “Yes?”

“You do not know how I have grieved for you, young one.” Vader hugged him closer, Luke felt his throat close up, and tears burn even though he wasn’t sure why. “How your absence has rung a hollow sound in my every day.” 

“I,” Luke bit his lip, “I don’t understand. I’m a rebel. You know that I am a spy? You know I’m Luke Skywalker!” 

“You are Luke Skywalker,” Vader set him down, holding him at arm's length but not letting go. “You are Luke Skywalker, son of Padme Amidala.” 

“Son of Anakin Skywalker,” Luke added, voice warbling, he refused to acknowledge the tears in his eyes as he stared Vader down. 

“Obi-Wan never told you what happened to your father, did he?” 

“He told me enough,” Luke spat, “he told me you killed him.” 

“No,” Vader reached up, pressing a hand to Luke’s forehead the same way he had when Luke was ill. “I am your father.” He traced his thumb down Luke’s jaw. “Your looks were too similar to Padme Amidala, my late wife, Palpatine drew these conclusions as well. I was driven mad by the comparison, and to rest my unease, I did a test. You are my son.” 

“I can’t be!” Luke yanked himself away, “I can’t be, and I won’t be! You can’t be my father!” 

“Why not,” Vader watched Luke scramble away the best he could, “is it so impossible that I might have been different once?” 

“BECAUSE I’M NOT FORCE SENSITIVE!” Luke shouted, “I’M NOT! I CAN’T BE A JEDI OR A SITH!” He heaved in a few breathes, forcing back his tears, “I’m no use to you. I can’t use the force. I can’t. I can’t be your son, because your son could only be force sensitive and I’m not.” Luke couldn’t stop the tears now; his breath came in sharp painful gasps as he tried his best to raise his hands to his face. “I can’t use to force.” He leaned against the far wall, crying bitterly in a way he hadn’t in almost a year and a half. “I can’t.” 

“Luke,” Vader moved to his side, almost bizarrely cautious. With shockingly gentle hands he cupped Luke’s face and brushed away the tears with his thumbs. “It doesn’t matter. Your existence is more than enough. I don’t care if you are force sensitive or not,” the chains unlocked themselves and clattered to the ground. Luke reached up to grab Vader’s wrists, staring up at the Deaths head mask. “You are my son, and I love you.” This time when Vader pulled Luke in for a hug, the gesture was accepted and returned as Luke cried. 

When Luke recovered his sense enough to be able to stop crying, he brushed his eyes clear with his sleeve and stared at his father.

“What now? People will know who I was. They’ll know who I am. They’ll draw conclusions.” 

“It doesn’t matter,” Vader set his hands on his shoulders, “they will accept their Prince no matter what.” 

“Prince? What the hell? You just learned that I wasn’t dead! You can’t make me a Prince!” 

“I made your sister a Princess only 15 minutes after I learned of her existence.” 

“A sister! I don’t have a sister!” 

“You do, your twin sister is here,” Vader didn’t seem concerned with Luke’s shock, “come, she will be pleased to learn that you are alive.”

“My aunt and uncle,” Luke stuttered, the mask swung back around to stare at him, “Kallus threatened them. They were held hostage when I was arrested. I have to let them know that I’m alive.” 

“Only after the invasion is complete,” Vader guided him from the room, Kallus and the troopers snapped to attention. The former had a bitterly furious expression as Luke was led away. Unable to stop himself, Luke twisted around and stuck out his tongue. Kallus made a violent gesture in return that faded from view as they turned a corner. 

“Invasion?” 

“I have decided that the Hutt clans are to be destroyed. Grand Admiral Thrawn is there to execute Jabba the Hutt, from there we will begin to destroy the crime syndicates.”

“But what about the slaves?”

“They will be freed, and given opportunities.” Vader ushered him away from the administrative wing and toward the private rooms. Luke knew this palace inside out; he didn’t need to be shown around. He was still wrapping his head around the fact that Vader was his father. 

“You said I have a sister? Who is it? Have I met her before?” Luke recognized the corridor and the door that led into his old room. When it slid open, he saw first that it looked unchanged from the way he had left it a year ago, and that Princess Leia was sitting on his bed and seemed to be deep in thought. “LEIA!” Her head snapped up, brown eyes widening as she caught sight of him.

“LUKE!” Her scream almost bowled him over, but her leap into his arms did. He and Leia tumbled to the ground, laughing and crying as one. “YOU’RE ALIVE!” Luke couldn’t speak past the hair the covered his face and Leia hugged him so tightly he felt his ribs creak. “Where have you been? Why didn’t you come home? Why did you?” She let go enough that Luke could finally speak.

“I’m sorry, Leia. I’m so sorry. It wasn’t safe for me to come back. I couldn’t come back. I went to my aunt and uncle, I tried to be a moisture farmer,” he gestured to his clothes. The heat of Tatooine had bled off on the first ship, but it still felt like home. “I wasn’t very good at it.”

“You should have come back to the rebellion.” 

“I couldn’t have,” Luke told her, “I wasn't safe. I couldn’t have come back. I was too well known. I needed space.” 

“Oh, Luke,” she hugged him tighter, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” 

“It isn’t your fault,” Luke told her, “besides, I didn’t think anyone would miss me anyway. I thought that if I died then all of the problems would go away.” 

“How could you think that? Why wouldn’t I miss you? You are my brother!” 

“I didn’t always know that,” he looked down, “we were friends, and I loved you like my sister, but I didn’t think you would miss me. After all, I was just an aide.”

“But, Luke.” Leia shook her head, “Luke, of course, I loved you. You were my only friend. We are siblings!” 

“Children,”Vader finally spoke, “please get off the floor.” Luke gave a teary laugh as he and Leia finally stood, they hugged again. As if they let go he would disappear forever. They couldn’t stop smiling. 

“I guess somehow; I’ve always known.” 

“You are my favorite sister,” he laughed.

“I’m your only sister.” 

“Unless there’s another,” Luke glanced at his father, who shook his head. 

“There had better not be,” Leia held him tighter, “two days ago I learned I had a brother I’d already lost. A father I didn’t know I had. I learned you’re alive today. I don’t think I can take much more of this.” 

“There is little else, children.” Vader set a hand on their shoulders, “I am graced with two of the finest children in the galaxy. Brace, intelligent, fearless, and bold; any father would envy me.” Bashful, both looked away, exchanging a glance before breaking into muffled giggles. “Come, children, it is time I got to know both of you,” he shook his finger in Luke’s face, “properly this time.” 

“You know how I take my caf,” Luke told him following his direction, “the fact I usually sleep past my alarm if I haven’t slept enough. The fact that I hate reading giant tomes of Mandalorian history.” 

“What?” Leia grinned, “what made you hate reading Mandalorian history? It's fascinating. “

“Not when it’s the work of the court recorder,” Luke grumbled, “and I would have to read a chapter and write an essay about it.”

“That’s hilarious!” 

“On top of the rest of my duties!” Luke exclaimed, “I was a rebel, and I was assigned book reports when I messed up! You know what he would do? He would read them when I was done and then quiz me on the material! It was awful!” 

“It was easier to discipline you this way than any other,” Vader supplied as the walked down the hall, “any military punishment would have only embittered you to me. Your loyalty was ensured by my mercy.” 

“Didn’t feel like mercy,” Luke muttered, he elbowed Leia as she continued to laugh, “it’s not funny!” 

“It is! The whole Court was obsessed with you, Luke. Who would you marry, why Vader favored you? You were the hot gossip in the Court. The fact that Vader was already acting like your father is funny. Book reports,” she glanced back at Vader, “wasn’t there something else you could have done?” 

“Nothing stills an insolent tongue as much as extra work,” Vader told her, “and Luke often insulted my officers.” 

“Piett deserved it,” Luke rolled his eyes. “Leia, do you want to hear the story of how I ended up as Father’s aide anyway? It is funny.” 

“Tell me!” 

#$#$#$3

His son was awake. Wrapped in a heavy blanket, and perched on his favorite window seat, staring out at the city-scape. Despite the fact he could hear Vader breathing, only a few steps away, he hadn’t looked toward him. 

“Did you mean it?” Luke finally spoke, adjusting his blanket as he turned to his father. His eyes were puffy and red; blond hair was mused and sticking up in all directions. There was a quiet desperation in his voice. 

“Luke?” 

“Did you mean it when you said you didn’t care?” He looked back to the window, “didn’t care that I wasn’t force sensitive?”

“You are my son, that is all I will ever ask you to be.” Vader dared to step closer. “Son.”

“It’s all anyone cared about when I was little.” Luke told him, “when would I be able to fight like a Jedi? When would I be able to be just like Obi-Wan? I thought something was wrong with me when I couldn’t lift rocks. When I couldn't figure out what people were thinking.” His voice crackled, he buried his head in his knees. His shoulders rose and fell as he took a deep breath. When he looked back up, his eyes were wet. “I became a spy so I could be useful.” 

“You are arguably the best spy the rebels had. You informed the Rebel Alliance of the Death Star.” 

“They took too long to do anything,” Luke glanced over, “they were going to blow up Alderaan, and I couldn’t let that happen. I couldn’t let anyone hurt Leia.” 

“In the meantime,” Vader sat opposite Luke, “You destroyed Sidious, Tarkin, and many of the more unsavory leaders of the Empire.” 

“Do you know what Tarkin said to be before I…before I set the bomb?”

“What?” 

“He told me to talk to his niece.” 

“You put yourself in grave danger, young one.” 

“You don’t even care that I blew up the Death Star?” 

“Only such that I am concerned for your safety and potential reprisals. The Death Star was Palpatine’s project. With the Force all things are possible.” 

“Even blowing up a planet?” He looked up, “really?” 

“Yes.”

Luke shivered within his blanket, and Vader pulled a trailing section up to cover his shoulder. “I couldn’t imagine being able to do that. It seems so frightening. I guess, as a spy who wasn’t force sensitive I managed to last longer than if I was.” 

“Had you been I would have identified you within seconds,” Vader told him. “Or perhaps I would have been as equally confused, my son. Little one, you should be in bed. It is too early for you to be awake.” 

“We didn’t want to go to sleep,” Luke told him, “but we ended up falling asleep anyway. I woke up.” 

“A nightmare?” 

“Not really? I’ve been used to sleeping in my little cot back on Tatooine, having my bed back feels a little odd on my back. Father? When will Artoo be let go? I know the techs have him, but he’s my friend.” 

“Artoo will be fine, Luke. He is a durable droid and will return to you soon enough.” Luke adjusted his blanket again and twisted about to set his bare feet against the ground. His pajamas were the same that Vader had ordered him aged ago. Well made of Naboo silk, as intricate and beautiful and the planet itself. Wrapped in a blanket that was falling off his shoulders, Luke looked like an Emperor. “Son, you should rest. Join your sister.” 

“I will,” Luke glanced up at him, “thank you, father.” 

Vader couldn’t speak past the lump in throat, the quiet awe he felt at being able to hold his son close would never fade. Instead of something damningly sentimental, he pushed on Luke’s shoulder. “Go, there is much to be done tomorrow. I will not allow you to sleep in.” 

“Alright,” he shook his head, his hair had grown out, Vader noted. It hung past his ears now. “I’m going.”

#$#$#$

Leia woke to the bright annoying beeping of a droid. It was a familiar sound, and she sat up to see R2-D2 sitting at the end of the bed. He bumped against the bed, buzzing. 

“Artoo?” She asked, and yawned so hard that her jaw cracked. For a moment her brain seemed to stall as she took in the skyline beyond the window and realized that the sun was well above the horizon. The Chrono blinking from the bedside table read 12:23. “Stars!” She yawned again and settled back against the pillows. Beside her, wrapped in the heaviest duvet, was Luke. He was wrapped up as tightly as possible, and completely out cold. 

He was alive. Her brother was alive. 

The sense of kinship she’d shared with Turroo had always been a bit peculiar, but as lonely as a princesses duties was, she had taken it without a second thought. He was alive, and she knew more than ever about him.

Leia sat up again, Artoo whistled at her, and she climbed off the bed and moved toward the window. Her own sheet trailed behind her. Atroo joined her at the window, and she gave him a light kick. “Thank you for bringing my brother back, Artoo.”

He whistled, and she shook her head. She’d have to learn binary. 

“He said that he was going to bring me back without the Imperials,” Luke said sleepily, he was sitting up and glancing blearily about. “What time is it?”

“Well past noon.”

“Father told me that he wouldn't let us sleep in. That liar, stars, I’m tired.” 

Leia watched Artoo rolled around the bed and bumped against it closer to where Luke was laying. Luke frowned at the droid and stuck out his tongue. 

“No, I don’t have chores to do today. Uncle Owen isn’t here to yank the covers off.” 

Artoo bumped against the bed again, and Luke closed his eyes and began to snore as loudly as he could. 

“Get up, Luke.” 

“Why?”

The blue and white droid whistled at the blond, and Luke finally opened his eyes. “Alright, I’ll get up, but only for food. No other reason.” 

“As long as you’re getting up,” Leia rolled her eyes, “let’s go. I want pancakes.” 

“NO! You’re still upset about that!” 

“Of course, I was! I wanted those pancakes, and you just gave me a joke!” 

“I actually gave you the recipe,” Luke told her, “but I wrote the recipe on the letter I gave your father to inform him about the Death Star. He probably told you it was a joke so you wouldn’t ask to look at the letter. Also, I don’t have any aunts.” Luke stood and moved toward the closet. Leia turned, frowning, “I found the recipe for pancakes in the library one afternoon. Obi-Wan left me there while he was contacting some arms dealers.” 

“Really!” He heard her shout from the bedroom, “Also, will you get me the silver and white suit?” 

“The! You can’t have my clothes!” 

“Why not! Mine are all the way across the building, and I’m not walking around in my pajamas! It’s not appropriate!” 

Luke rolled his eyes, “fine!” As soon as he was dressed, he grabbed the suit from the hanger and held it out the door. He waited until Leia gave the all clear and he could return to room. He was sitting at his desk and using his small mirror to try and pin up her hair. They both turned as the door opened again, and Threepio came waddling through. 

“Master Luke! I’m very pleased to see you safe and sound!” The golden moved toward Luke, “and good morning, Master Leia. Emperor Vader has requested both of you in his study in an hours time. He says it is a matter of importance.” 

“Father has a study?” 

“Emperor Vader?” The twins exchanged a look and shrugged. “We’ll be there, Threepio. Oh, did you miss your little friend?” Artoo rolled his squat body forward, buzzing. 

“R2-D2! Where have you been? You miserable rust-bucket! You weren't supposed to leave!” 

“He stole a fighter,” Luke called, trying to get his hair into some semblance of order. “Yell at him about that!”

“Artoo! How dare you?”

Luke and Leia made their escape while the droids argued. 

#$#$#

Vader considered the confused and somewhat frightened form of Mon Mothma and Bail Organa, as well as the confused Admiral Piett and High General Veers. They were an even mix of loyal officers and insurgents and knew each of them more than he really wanted to. 

“Why are we here?” Mothma demanded, “his officers glared at her, but she didn’t notice. 

“My children will be here,” Vader answered, and watched with detached interest as Piett seemed to choke on his spit. 

“What!” Veers demanded, “children?” 

“Yes,” Vader glanced at Bail, who seemed resigned. “The Crown Princess and soon to be Crown Prince,” 

“You want to make both of them your heirs?” Bail demanded, “they can’t?” 

“Why not? As co-emperors, they would both be capable in both state and military affairs.” 

“Leia!” 

“LUKE IS ALIVE!” Mon Mothma lept to her feet, “Bail!” She whirled on her friend, who shrugged. 

“Despite your treasonous attempts to keep me from my children,” Vader snapped, Piett and Veers stared silently, bemused and horrified, “I have found them. The only thing keeping me from executing you right now is that you will pledge to support their rise to the throne. Else I will find someone else to do it, and you will be a forgotten fool from an era of stupidity.’ 

“You!” Mothma was a keen politician, which was how she had survived the purge of the Empire. As she glanced between two unyielding officers and a resigned Bail, she gave a short nod. “I have always supported Princess Leia; I was her mentor for the Imperial Senate! I thought Luke had died!” 

“Until a few days ago, so had I,” Vader stared calmly as he could manage. “You are guilty of using my children as weapons against me. A crime that is punishable.” 

“How? You have only been Emperor for a year, and no such law exists in the Empire.” 

“No?” Vader knew he was frightening his officers and Organa, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. “There is documented evidence that you are complacent in the crimes Luke suffered as a child.” 

“Luke did not suffer! He was well cared for!” 

“Until you found out he could not be used to kill me!” Vader thundered, “then he was abandoned. As well as your crimes against the Empire you are guilty of associating with the Jedi, which is illegal!” 

“The Empire is force of evil!” Mothma declared, “I will not stand by and allow people to be hurt by an indifferent government!” 

“Why should this matter to you now!” Vader demanded, “it did not occur to you under the Republic? Or are you so hypocritical that you would waste your life trying re-attain ill-begotten power!” 

“Your empire is the true evil!” 

“An evil that was birthed by your Republic! But it will change, and the galaxy will benefit!” 

In the pause that followed his declaration, there was a small cough, and Vader turned to see Luke and Leia standing just inside the door. They both wore a suit, possibly stolen from Luke’s coset. They looked as handsome and strong as ever, and Vader felt his heart swell with pride. They looked like royalty. 

“Excuse us,” Leia glanced between them, “is there something we should be aware of?” 

“Turroo?” Piett spoke up; his eyes were riveted on Luke, “who? You died!” 

“I got better,” Luke gave a deprecating smile, “and you got promoted congratulations.” 

“As were you,” Piett said faintly, “Crown Prince Luke.” 

“What?” he glanced at Vader, “crown prince? You never said anything about crown prince.” 

“This is an excellent idea,” Luke clapped her hands, “co-rulers. This way it isn’t seen as favoring one over the other. We both have different strengths and weaknesses. You have befriended the entire court, even the ones that don’t like you will support you. I have many contacts of my own. I assume that you’ve called everyone here to make sure that military and rebel support will be ours?” 

“Yes,” Leia was a wonder. 

“Papa?” Bail looked up, gratitude seeping into his expression.

“Yes?” 

“I believe we should get started right away,” Leia told him, “what do you think?” 

“I believe that announcing this immediately would be beneficial,” Bail agreed, “you’re right about Luke being favored. A story will have to be made up as to why he was Turroo for a while. A plausible one, and then we would have integrated the both of you into day to day running of the Empire. Leia takes the Senate; Luke takes the Court, you would both be able to devise the best course of action you want the Empire to take. Also, Luke’s unique past gives him an opportunity to understand what average citizens face.” 

“You will need the support of Grand Admiral Thrawn,” Veers spoke up, all eyes turned to him, “he is well-liked by a large portion of the military. “

“We have to pardon the Jedi,” Luke blurted, and Vader tensed. 

“Even Obi-Wan?” He asked, and Luke glowered at him.

“Even Obi-Wan,” Luke swallowed visibly, “but there are Force users being born around the galaxy, and nothing anyone does will stop that. They need to be trained to understand their power; they need help. By pardoning the Jedi, we can help those children.” 

“Who will help these children? There are none who understand the force, save myself and Kenobi.” 

“Kanan Jarrus,” Luke said without hesitation, “he is a good teacher. He will take care of the children, and he’ll teach them.” 

“Jarrus?” Mothma shook her head, “he is a maverick.” 

“I will speak to him,” Vader declared, Mothma gave an ugly frown. “And decide myself, until then we must prepare for Luke and Leia to become equal rank. There is much to be done, Piett, call Thrawn from the front and leave the fight in the hands of a trusted commander. You are correct, Veers, we will need his help. It is time we make this Empire worth something.” He watched both his children straighten, ready to face anything together.


	2. End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-Wan's sort of redemption.   
> Ezra's family drama.

#$#$#

Kanan had never expected to settle in a communications tower on Lothal. Mostly renovated to hold his family, with a few additions and renovations to fit the people and supplies. Ever since the Republic had fallen, he hadn’t expected to settle anywhere. As a Jedi, his life would be running and hiding from people wanting to kill him. 

Now, he was pardoned, and a perfectly legal citizen. He could have a house, a library card, a garden. 

Kanan glanced up from the dirt and toward the top of the tower where bright red streamers fluttered. He smiled at the sight and went back to digging a hole for the Ryloth rose bush. The sound of a speeder distracted him from his work, and he looked up to see an Imperial painted speeder racing toward him. He reached for his lightsaber, only to remember he had left it on his nightstand. He braced himself for a fight before the slowed to a halt a respectable distance. The rider dismounted and jogged over. 

They were older and looked a little fancier than the usual post-man. “Good afternoon, I’m trying to reach Kanan Jarrus. I was told he lived here.” 

“I’m Kanan,” he watched the man pulled a letter from his inner pocket and handed it over. “What’s this?”

“A letter from his majesty, Emperor Vader.” Kanan drew back quickly, staring down at the folded paper with trepidation.

“What is this?” 

“I don’t know, Mr. Jarrus. I’m only here to deliver the letter and return your reply.” 

Kanan took the letter, still frowning, but unfolded it and read through the few lines. He blinked a few times, “Alright, come on in. I’ve got to talk to my wife before I write anything back.” He ushered the man into the kitchen and bounded up the steps to his room. Hera was sitting back on the bed, her stomach and feet too swollen for her to move very far. “Hera,” he slid into the room, “I just got a letter!” 

“Okay?” She opened her eyes, frowning, “why are you waking me up?”

“I got it from Vader,” he answered, and she sat up as best she could. “Here.” He passed it over and sat on the edge of the bed until she read through the letter. 

“Is he serious?” Hera handed the letter back, “he can’t be. This is ridiculous. The only reason Vader would want to talk to you was to kill you.” 

“He did pardon the Jedi,” Kanan reminded her, “and he sent someone all the way from the core to deliver a letter. I don’t even think I have to say yes.” 

“You aren’t going anywhere until the baby is born,” Hera told him, “tell him no. I won’t have you getting killed by a Sith Lord the same day our baby is born.” 

“Alright, do you want me to talk to him at all?” 

“No, but I have a feeling that whatever he wants to talk to you about will probably come back. Whatever it is, it can wait.” 

“Alright,” Kanan kissed her forehead, “just try to rest up, love. You’re going to tire yourself out like this.” 

“I’m fine, you nanny,” Hera pushed him away, “I’m just pregnant, not dying.” 

“I know, I know, I’m just worried.” 

“I’m not going to die right now,” Hera said, “I’m going to be fine. Go tell him you’re not going and then come back and look through holo book Sabine put together for us. There’s a whole section for the new baby.” 

“Fantastic,” he ran down the stairs, and a few minutes later the postman left. 

As soon as he reached Hera again, her face was scrunched up, and she was fisting the blankets. “Kanan,” she said very calmly, “get the speeder ready, the baby is coming.” 

“Seriously! Now!” 

“Yes,” she maneuvered herself off the bed, and stood up, “go get the speeder ready. We have to get to the hospital.” 

“Yes,” Kanan dithered for a moment before obeying, “I’ll go get the speeder ready.” He rushed to the door and called down the winding stairwell. “ZEB!” 

“What?” Zeb poked his out of his room, “what?” 

“The baby’s coming! Come help Hera down to the speeder.” 

“The baby’s coming?” Sabine appeared out of her room. “Now?” 

“GET STUFF READY!” Kanan called as Hera appeared at his side, huffing and puffing. Zeb bounded up the stair, taking Hera’s hand as Kanan jumped down the center of the stairwell, landing on the middle floor ceiling with his usual grace. With a few scambling stpes he was down the ladder and into the main living space and out the door. He had the speeder idling and waiting at the front door when Hera came out, Zeb and Sabine at her side. “Where’s Ezra?”

“He’s in town,” Sabine told him as Hera moved toward the pilot's chair. “He’s shopping; I’ll call him when we get there. Hera, what are you doing? “

“I’m flying,” she pushed at Kanan, “move,” 

“The baby is coming right now! For once you could stand to be flown somewhere.” 

“No,” Her a pushed at him, and Kanan moved to the passenger's seat as Sabine and Zeb climbed into the back. “I’m flying, I flew in battle while pregnant, I can do it now too. Let’s go.” 

#$#$#$#

“Sir,” one of the newer aides approached the trio of royalty standing in a close circle, “I’ve got something for you.” 

“Which sir?” Prince Luke asked, and the young man swallowed hard. 

“Erm, Emperor Vader, sir.” He yelped as the datapad in his hand was yanked away and flew toward Vader’s grip. He considered the news carefully before throwing it back. 

“What is it?” 

“General Syndulla has delivered a healthy daughter,” Vader told them, “I cannot consider anything more frightening.” The aide gasped, and the prince and princesses nodded in agreement. 

“A tiny baby Syndulla is a scary thought,” Princess Leia scoffed, “we’ll have to send her congratulations.” 

“And a present! I’m sure we could send some baby clothes and a present for the parents. Did you ever meet Kanan?”

“No, but I heard a lot about him.” 

“He bought parenting books when Ezra became his padawan, which is why he’d be perfect to make sure that chidlren of the Force get to learn safely.” 

“He actually bought parenting books, why?” 

“Ezra’s parents died in a prison riot,” Luke glanced at Vader, “and he was found by the Specters when he was 14.” 

“Goodness,” Leia sighed, “at least Jyn got to reunite with her parents. Poor Ezra.” 

“Hmm,” Vader turned away from the twins, “I have an idea.” 

#$#$#$#

The new minister of Lothal was a nice older woman who was from the city and had survived the Imperial occupation. She was tough but nice, and she liked to have Ezra over for tea. If only to give him something in the long afternoons when the construction projects were finished, the garden was done, and Hera was napping.

“Minister?” Ezra waved the door open, flinching at the memory of running through these walls as Imperials chased him. “You wanted to see me?” He stepped through and noticed how nervous she seemed. He frowned as something familiar tugged on the edge of his mind.

“Yes,” she nodded to a package on her desk, “this came from the core. It’s a gift for General Syndulla.” 

“A gift! We’ve gotten tons of presents from people all over. Most of the rebellion sent stuff, and then we got things from Imps.” He opened the box and whistled at the very fancy clothes within. A letter was addressed to Kanan and Hera and sealed with the Imperial royal seal. He set it down and ran through the rest of the stuff, a small stuffed rebel pilot doll, a packet of caf, and a picture book. “Who is this from? Do you know?” 

“It was from Emperor Vader and his children.”

“Luke sent presents!” He decided to ignore the parts with Vader. He still had nightmares about Malacore. “This is great; this seems like really nice caf.” He paused as the sensation seemed to strengthen. “Minister, what’s wrong?” 

“There’s nothing wrong,” she wrung her hands, “but there’s something else for you. Or, someone else.”

“Someone?” Ezra set the picture book down, “who?”

“Um,” she fiddled with her sleeves, “I’ll go get them. Hold on.” Ezra nodded as she left the room in a rush, he wished he hadn’t left his lightsaber handing up in his room. He watched the door and was totally unprepared when his parents walked through. 

Older, grayer in their hair then he remembered, wearing simple clothes, and tired, but they were his parents, and Ezra knew he couldn’t forget their faces as long as he lived.

“Ezra,” his father whispered as if he couldn’t believe his eyes, “is that really you?”

“Dad?” He turned to the woman, her hair was longer than ever, and her eyes were spilling with tears. “Mom?”

“Ezra,” she muttered, voice cracking, “Ezra.” 

Ezra dropped the picture book, feeling time slow down, as he launched across the room and seized his parents in a hug for the first time in 6 years. His heart squeezed as they hugged him back, tighter than was comfortable. He didn’t care. 

He knew he was crying, and he could feel their shoulders shaking as well. They held onto him, muttering his name again and again as if they couldn’t believe he was here. He couldn’t hear them past the roaring in his ears, his mother kissed his forehead, again and again, refusing to let him go. His father cried into her shoulders almost breathless. 

“I thought you were dead!” He exclaimed when he found a chance to get a word in edgewise. “We got reports that you were killed in a prison riot.” 

“We didn’t,” Mira wiped at her eyes, crying, “we were separated a few days before the riot by the Imperials. They knew that we were your parents and that you were a rebel.”

“It was the first piece of news we’d had of you since we were arrested,” Ephraim finally took a deep breath, “they told us you were a rebel. We didn’t know anything until then. They told us you were alive and fighting against the Empire.”

“I was doing what you taught me,” Ezra chuckled wetly, and he brushed his face off, “I thought you were dead. I didn’t even think that you might have survived.” 

“A man calling himself that Grand Inquisitor had us transferred,” his father said, he shuddered. “He hated you. Is the one who?” He reached out, brushing trembling fingertips against the scar on Ezra’s cheek. “Did he do this?” 

“Yeah,” Ezra leaned into his father’s hand, “but don’t worry. Kanan took care of him. He got thrown down a reactor core.” 

“A reactor core!” 

“Yeah, he won’t bother us ever again.” 

“Who is Kanan?” Mira asked, and Ezra wondered if his parents would approve of each other. “Tell us everything that happened, please. Did anyone take care of you? The neighbors?”

“No,” Ezra scoffed bitterly, “they didn’t want anything to do with me after you were arrested. I was alone until I was 14. I ran into Kanan and Hera by accident; they were trying to steal the same thing I was. They got it, and I ended up in their crew.” 

“Thieves?” 

“Rebels,” Ezra said, “we fought against the Empire until Palpatine died. Then we were pardoned as Jedi, and then Hera had to go on maternity leave, so we’re on a break from fighting.” 

“Hera?” 

“Yeah, she’s a pilot, and she just had a baby. Um, Dawn, you’re going to love her. Both of them, you’re going to love everyone. I can’t wait for you to meet them. There’s Sabine, and Zeb, and baby Dawn. Then there’s Kanan and Hera, oh, and you’ve got to mee AP-5, and Chopper.” 

“This is your rebel crew?” 

“Did you say pardoned as Jedi?” 

“Oh,” he glanced at his parents, their worry, and joy fighting for space on their faces. “I’m a Jedi, right. Yeah, I can use the Force. That’s why I had to join up with the rebels in the first place. Well, I didn’t have too. It wasn’t safe for me anymore once I realized my power.” 

“Power, Ezra, what do you mean?” 

“Uh,” he took a step back and summoned the picture book to his hands. He watched his parents gape, shocked to their core as it sailed through the air. “Are you mad?” He asked when it took too long for them to respond. 

“No,” Mira exclaimed, “we’re not mad. I promise.” She hugged him again. “But you must have been in so much danger. Ezra, you are a Jedi. That was a capital crime until a year ago!”

“Everything was a capital crime if the arresting officer didn’t like you,” Ezra said into her shirt, he glanced over at his father. He was crying again. 

“And you’ve gotten so tall, Ezra. You’re a grown man. Our son is already grown. You’re an adult.”

“Um, I guess. Still feel kinda like a little kid.” 

“But you are grown up. You’re almost as tall as your father.” 

“Um, Mom, Dad, do you want to go to the communications tower? That’s were we live now.” 

“That old place?” They exchanged a look.

“Yeah, that’s where I lived before I joined the specters. That’s were we live now. We’ve added rooms and space so it’ll fit everyone. Kanan even started a garden so there will be flowers.” 

“You live there?” 

“Yeah, it’s pretty amazing. Hera didn’t want to move back to Ryloth, and Kanan sure didn’t want to move back to the Jedi Temple, so we decided on Lothal. Sabine could move back with her family, but she doesn’t want to live on a snowball of a planet. She likes Lothal because we’ve got warm summers. Zeb wanted to move to Lothal too, and Chopper doesn’t care where he lives as long as it’s with Hera. Sometimes Kallus comes to visit, but he usually just flirts super awkwardly with Zeb.” 

“Who are these people?” They exchanged another glance. “I don’t think.” 

“Um, our house was firebombed during one of the battles,” Ezra told his parents. “But I managed to save a lot of our stuff before it got burned down. Um, unless you want to stay in the city.”

“No, we need to meet your family, Ezra. I want to meet the people who took care of you. I want to meet the people who raised you.” 

“You guys raised me,” Ezra felt like crying again, he wasn’t sure he had any more tears to cry. 

“We weren’t the only ones,” Ephraim told him quietly, “do you have a vehicle?” 

“Yeah, I brought the speeder into town.” Ezra took a deep breath, “let me get the box.” 

#$#$34 

Mira didn’t want to let her son go ever again, and it was a miracle she’d gotten the chance to hold him again. She followed him down to the speeder parked outside. It would be a tight fit, but doable. She climbed on in front of her husband, holding the box of presents close. Her throat closed up as he took the controls of the ship confidently, and drove them through a familiar, but unfamiliar city. 

It was their home. Where they had lived for years raising Ezra and speaking out against the Empire. That horrifying morning when they’d been dragged from their home, and the terrifying days that followed. It was years and years of thinking the worst had happened to Ezra. 

Someone had taught him to fly, and fight. She hadn’t missed the calluses on his hands when she’d held them. Someone else had raised her son. 

As Ezra flew them from the city and into the countryside, she took a deep breath and smelled the familiar scents from her youth. Years in prison had made her forget how wonderful the world could smell. 

Ezra was right; the communications tower had obviously undergone some renovations. There were bright red streamers at the top, green ones mixed among them. Several lumpy protrusions from the side that had to be the rooms he’d mentioned. There was a ship nearby, a garden around the base, and a little mailbox sitting a few feet away from the front door. 

It looked like a home, and it was beautiful. As the landspeeder slowed, she felt nervousness creep up her spine. Her son dismounted, and she followed, wondering who these people were. Before she even reached the front door of their old communications tower, it slammed opened and a young girl with brightly colored hair stepped out. Her Mandalorian armor was brightly painted as well, and the blasters on her side made Mira nervous on reflex. 

“You’re late, Ezra. Hera’s not going to be happy. Did you pick up the mail?” She stuttered to a halt as dark eyes fell on Mira and Ephraim. “What?”

“Sabine,” Ezra gestured back at his parents, “this is my mom and dad.” 

“Oh my gosh!” The girl, Sabine covered her mouth, “your parents! They’re alive!” 

“We are,” Ephraim said, “erm, got released a few days ago.”

“You’re alive!” Sabine seemed to be incapable of speech, “alive?” 

“Yeah,” Ezra seemed nervous, “Mom, Dad, this is Sabine Wren. She’s a Mandalorian warrior, and one of the Specters. Ace pilot and shot, can’t miss. Also the artist in the group. She painted her own armor, and she did all the murals inside.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Sabine,” Mira said as calmly as she could manage. “I like your armor.” 

“Thanks,” Sabine shook her head and turned to Ezra, “Hera and Kanan are going to flip. Come on in Bridgers; I’ll make come caf.” They followed her in, and Mira felt her shoulders loosen as the homey atmosphere of the renovated communication tower washed over her. A purple, furry alien she didn’t recognize was sitting at the table, slurping down something that smelled like soup. As soon as he caught sight of them, recognition flashed in their eyes, and they set down the bowl with a decisive thunk. 

“Bridgers?”

“Hello,” Ephraim waved, “we are the Bridgers.” 

“I’m Zeb,” he said looking dazed, he stood and held out an enormous paw. “We thought you were dead!” 

“Not dead,” Mira answered, “you’re Zeb. Ezra told us a little about you.” 

“I’m a lasat,” Zeb answered, “stars, I can’t believe you’re here! Kid!” He turned to Ezra, who shrugged. “Have you told Kanan and Hera?” 

“No.” 

“Told us what?” Mira glanced up the winding staircase to the pair descending. A twi’lek woman with green skin and holding a neatly swaddled infant, and a human man with dark skin and hair drawn back in a ponytail. The pair paused as soon as they saw Mira and Ephraim, they looked just as shocked as Zeb. 

“Mira? Ephraim?” Hera asked, she covered her mouth and glanced at Ezra who looked suspiciously tearful. “Are you?”

“Really here?” Kanan almost fell down the last few steps, coming to a halt in front of them. He seemed young, younger than they were. His eyes were bright. “You’re alive!” Mira wasn’t ready for the young man to wrap his arms around her and pick her up, laughing. “You’re alive! The Bridgers are alive! Thank the Force!” 

“Oh dear,” Mira felt her own glee finally break free of the sadness, “we’re alive, Kanan. We are here.” Kanan set her down, laughing excitedly. He hugged Ephraim with as much enthusiasm. 

“Welcome back to Lothal. I can’t believe it. When did you get released? How did you survive the prison riot! Have you had a chance to catch up with Ezra? Oh, stars! You’re alive! This calls for a celebration! We’ve got a have a party!” 

“A party?” 

“Yes,” Hera agreed, taking the last few steps and adjusting the baby in her arms, “we’ll need to celebrate the reunion.”

“I,” Mira glanced between Hera and Ezra, and then between Kanan and Ezra. They were close, their connection honest and parental. “A party sounds like fun.” 

“It’s been six years,” Ephraim said, “I think I could use a party.” 

#$#$#4

Imperial Center was just as ugly as Ezra had been told, too many buildings and too many people. He fidgeted as the control panel lit up. 

“Ezra, calm down.” Kanan guided the ship through the lines of traffic, “we’re going to be fine.” 

“We’re going to meet Vader,” Ezra reminded him, “and he’s tried to kill us.” 

“How could I forget?” He asked dryly, “we’re fine. We’re not criminals anymore. We’ve been pardoned, and there’s no reason to suspect we’ll be arrested.” 

“He tried to kill us,” Ezra said again, “I don’t want us to get shot. Plus I left my parents at home, and I didn’t want to leave them.” 

“Your parents are with Hera and the others,” Kanan guided the ship toward the enormous palace in the center of the Imperial Grid. “They’ll be fine too. Hera’s taking them shopping for new clothes.” 

“Mom does need a new head-dress,” Ezra kicked his feet, “but dad.” 

“Ezra, your parents are fine. We’re going to a meeting that we’ve been putting off for over a year. Mostly for good reasons, but still. We need to see what Vader wants, and then we can go home.”

“I just got them back,” Ezra closed his eyes, “I’ve been having nightmares.” 

“I know,” Kanan looked over to his padawan, “about their arrest?” 

“Yeah,” he sank down into his seat, “I wake up expecting the stormtroopers to come barging through. I expect people to try and arrest them. I’m afraid, and I’m so scared they aren’t going to be there when I get home.” 

“It’s okay to be scared, Ezra.” Kanan followed the indicated landing zone and set the ship down. He glanced at his padawan. “You should call them as soon as we get out of his meeting, alright?” 

“Okay,” Ezra stood, taking a deep breath. “Okay. Let’s get this meeting over with.” 

As they opened the ramp, both were surprised as who waited at the bottom. 

Luke Skywalker, looking more excited and happy than Kanan had ever seen him. His hair was long and pulled back in a familiar style. He wore an expensive looking suit and waved. 

“Hi, there, strangers!” 

“LUKE!” Ezra bounded down the ramp, yanking his friend into a hug. “I didn’t expect to see you!” 

“Yeah, I thought I’d come to get you! How is Dawn?” 

“She’s fine,” Kanan moved down the ramp at a more sedate pace, “Hera’s got her at home.” 

“My parents are alive, Luke! They’re free! They came to Lothal about a month ago! Can you believe it! We thought they were dead and I went to talk to the minister, and they came through the door, and I couldn’t believe it!” 

“That was father’s idea,” Luke told him, “we started a commission to locate those unfairly imprisoned and release them with fair compensation. They were the start, we’ve gotten a lot of political prisoners released. I was at the head of it before I transferred authority to Senator Organa.” 

“Wow, I still can’t believe that you’re a prince,” Ezra leaned back, “looking good, Mr. Prince.” 

“Thanks, don’t worry about your meeting with Father. He’s in a good mood.” 

“That doesn’t make me feel better,” Kanan said dryly. “But I suppose it’s enough.”

“It’s all I can offer,” Luke wrapped an arm around Ezra, “Come on, buddy. Let me show you around.” 

“Is Leia here? I remember her. Does she remember me?” 

“She might remember your awkward flirting,” Luke joked. “I heard all about that.” 

“Nooooo,” Ezra leaned his head against Luke’s, smiling, “don’t remind her. I feel bad enough already.” 

“She told me it was funny,” Luke answered, “and I think it’s funny. You never flirted with me.”

“Yeah, that’s because you were always gone and then you were always frowny.” 

“Yeah.” 

“You do have a nice smile,” Ezra blurted, flushing as the prince looked over, and winked, “well, it’s true.” 

“It is,” Luke grinned, buffing his nails against his shirt and examining them, “it is. Come on; you’re going to love what we’ve done with the place.” 

Kanan watched the two make off and shook his head. “Since you wanted to get me alone, is there something you wanted?” 

“There is,” Princess Leia stepped out from the corner, smiling, “you don’t miss a trick.” 

“I have three children,” Kanan told her, “they’ve tried every trick in the book. Ezra and Sabine wrote the book, and I’m sure they’ll teach Dawn, but no, I’ve seen them all. Nice try though, Princess.” 

“You sound like father,” Princess Leia waved a hand, “he always tells me he knows the tricks I’m up to.” 

“Well,” Kanan was too dignified to shuffle uncomfortably, “what does he want?” 

“Just a meeting, follow me, Master Jedi.” 

“You know you don’t have to call me that,” Kanan told her, “you can just call me Kanan.” 

“Thank you, Kanan.” Princess Leia winked at her, “my fathers are excited about a new venture.” She led him deep into the palace, past the ranks of soldiers and officers, and into an enormous office. It was the sort an Emperor used, but it didn’t look like it. It was packed with datapads, the desk covered in flimsi, and several holo-sets were displaying numbers and news outlets. Standing in the middle of the chaos, was Emperor Vader and Senator Bail Organa. He glanced back as Leia vanished throuh the door. 

“Master Jedi!” Organa beamed as he caught sight of him, “how are you? Welcome!” 

“Jarrus,” Vader gave a simple nod, waving for the holo-sets to close down. The light faded, and the room felt ominously dark. “Welcome.” 

“Thanks for the half-dozen invites,” Kanan nodded back.

“How is your daughter?” Organa asked, his expression of forced excitement. “Dawn?” 

“She’s doing very well.” 

“And General Syndulla? How is she?” 

“Recovering very well,” Kanan sighed, “what did you want me for?” 

“The Jedi Order,” Vader began, surprising him, “is long gone, save for yourself and Bridger.” 

“Obi-Wan is still alive,” Kanan pointed out, but Vader waved him off. 

“Kenobi’s ability to teach with patience and understanding is nonexistent, and Yoda should not be allowed near children.”

“If I recall they were considered some of the greatest masters of the Order.” Kanan stuck his hands on his hips. 

“They might have been,” Vader agreed, “but you bore witness to their inability to care for my son. Their crimes against my family, notwithstanding, I do not trust them to train the next generation of Jedi.” 

“You destroyed the order, why build it back up?”

“The galaxy will always have force sensitive children, and there must always be someone there to teach them.”

“And?” 

“You should teach the new order of Jedi,” Vader announced, and Kanan’s mouth flopped open. 

“What?” 

“You are clearly a perfect candidate,” Vader answered, “you have raised Ezra Bridger well, and trained him better than any of the Jedi could have. He is talented, skilled, and well-adjusted.”

“Ezra is,” Kanan sputtered, searching for words, “you can’t be serious! I’m only partly trained! I was 14 when my master was killed by clone troopers. I can’t train a whole new generation of Jedi!” 

“You will have help,” Vader didn’t seem concerned with his worries, “I will assist when I abdicate the throne. You are the perfect candidate, and I believe that Lothal is the ideal planet to begin rebuilding the Jedi Order.” 

“LOTHAL! Vader, I have an infant daughter I’m raising.” 

“Setting up the funds and the buildings will take a great deal of effort,” Vader told him, “it will not happen overnight. Ezra will help of course, provided he attends university.” 

“Ezra!” 

“Certainly,” Vader continued, “and no doubt Sabine wishes to advance her art. There are several lucrative art schools who would be pleased to have her.” 

“Are you bribing me?” Kanan yelped. “you want to start the new order without Obi-Wan or Master Yoda? It won’t work.” 

“It will work precisly because they will not be involved,” Vader told him, “and unless you have no other objections.” 

“I do!” Kanan yelled, but Vader tossed him a datapad. “What is this?” 

“The proposal,” Vader replied, “of your duties. It would begin when the funds are prepared; you will have input on the new facilities, the design of the building and the management of it.” 

“I can’t be the new grandmaster of the Jedi Order!” 

“Why not?” 

‘”I didn’t finish my training!” 

“You have followed the Force far better than any Jedi in recent history; Master Yoda included,” Vader boomed, and Kanan felt his face heat up. “There is no better choice than you, and.” 

“I’m not doing anything until I’ve had a talk with my wife!” Kanan exclaimed, “well, Hera. I’m not doing anything until we have a talk. You can’t get me to agree to something like this!’

“Then discuss it when the general,” Vader crossed his arms, clearly frustrated, “then we will discuss this again, but you saw the old Jedi with my son. You know they are bad for young minds, they are bad for their hearts and heads. In the middle of a war, you have taught and raised two children. Without another one, I am sure you will raise Dawn just as expertly. Ezra Bridger will also make an excellent teacher when you believe that he is ready.” 

“Luke,” Kanan sighed, “what are you doing with Obi-Wan?” 

“No more than he deserves,” Vader retorted, “as well with Yoda.” 

“What are you doing to them?” 

“Their fate will be decided by my son,” Vader finally crossed his arms, “I have no say in it.” 

“Luke?” Kanan took a breath, “what do you think he’ll do?” 

“Luke is a wise.” 

“That’s not what I am asking,” Kanan replied, looking hard at Senator Organa, “Senator?” 

“I don’t know Luke as well.” 

“I am confident that Luke will make a just decision,” Vader told him, and Kanan shook his head. 

“I want to talk to Luke before I go.” 

“Luke is a Crown Prince, and his duties keep him busy.” 

“I know for a fact he’s shooting the breeze with Ezra, and if you can use your Crown Princess to escort me to a meeting the Emperor is holding, I’m sure I can talk to Luke for a few minutes.” 

“What is it you will say to him? Plead clemency for those who hurt him? Beg him to let those reprobate Jedi loose again?”

“That is between us,” Kanan swallowed dryly. Vader was fickle and temperamental, even as the Emperor, but Kanan hoped that the man’s confidence in his Jedi abilities would keep him alive a little longer. He tucked the proposal under his arm, “is there anything else you wanted?” 

“No, consider the proposal,” Vader ordered, “questions and comments can be sent through the contact information provided in the packet. Since you have decided to ignore my hospitality.”

“Oh, shut up,” Kanan snapped, “I’m not going to grilled on manners by a man who tried to blow my entire family up.”

“If I had wanted to kill your student,” Vader rumbled, “I would have done so within the first two minutes of our duel.”

“Like a nexu playing with his food,” Kanan rolled his eyes, “don’t even try to kid me. I’m leaving now,” he said pointedly. Senator Organa looked pleased with the route the conversation had taken. “If you’re going to stop me now would be an ideal time to do it. Hera would like a chance to stretch her legs and blow you up.” 

“Go,” Vader’s annoyance simmered below the surface. 

“Yep,” Kanan made his escape, glancing around for Leia. She was leaning against the wall, smirking. 

“How’d it go? “

“Did you know they were going to spring that on me?” 

“It was our idea,” Leia told him, Kanan frowned at her. 

“Why?” 

“Because, when Luke was with the rebellion, he always remembered you fondly, and I met you during the war,” she smiled at him. Kanan felt like it was damning. “I think you’re perfect for the role. Father wants the next generation of Force children to be taught, and he’ll do it himself if he has to, but he is determined that Obi-Wan and Yoda not have any part in it.”

“I can’t,” Kanan shook his head, “I’ll think on it, but I need to talk to Luke before I go. Do you know where he is?” 

“Where he always takes his guests he wants to impress,” Leia rolled her eyes, and Kanan wondered if she got a chance to relax. Being the future Empress couldn’t be easy. “The gardens.” 

“The gardens?” Kanan followed behind as they wound through the palace. 

“Luke’s favorite room, he’s almost got a whole conservatory in his bedroom. The housekeeping staff keeps telling him to stop bringing home plants. He won’t; he claims that plants are romantic.” 

“Ah,” Kanan considered the thought of Luke bringing romantic home company might be too much for him to contemplate. It might be too much for Vader to consider and might actually send the Emperor into shock. He amused himself with the image of Vader chasing out half-dressed romantic partners with a broom. “He better not have any intentions with my son,” Kanan said, mostly just to say it. Ezra was wrapped up in his parents return, and babysitting Dawn. He hadn’t expressed any interest in anyone in ages. He wanted the young man to have some companionship. 

“No, Luke’s been making awful flirting attempts with Zev Veers,” Leia rolled her eyes. “You should see them; it’s just obnoxious. Luke isn’t nearly as cute as he thinks he is.” 

“If I remember correctly, Luke could probably swim in marriage proposals.” 

“Oh, yes!” Leia’s smile was a touch darker than usual, “I remind him of that to keep him humble. Whenever he gets uppity, I schedule a meeting with someone on the list of people who tried to propose when he was just Father’s aide.” 

“Sisters are terrible,” Kanan shook his head as Leia finally laughed. 

“I am awful,” she preened, “and it keeps Luke from getting a fat ego.” 

“I don’t remember Luke being particularly arrogant,” Kanan said as they entered a very green room. Wide domed glass ceilings gave the air of being outside. It was full of plants, trees, and shrubbery, all well-groomed, but the touch of wildness that made the Force practically bloom with the flowers. He took a deep breath. 

“I am not arrogant,” he turned to see Luke and Ezra a few steps away. Ezra had a goofy smile on his face, and Luke looked a little pink. “And you are a terrible sister.” 

“I am the galaxies best sister,” Leia tossed her head, “you got me a mug that says so.” 

“I shouldn’t have,” Luke sighed, “Kanan, how did the meeting with Father.” 

“We need to have a long talk about reasonable goals,” Kanan told them both sternly. The effect was ruined when Ezra bounced forward and gave him a hug. Every time the younger man hugged him, Kanan remembered just how much he was growing.

“Can we go home yet?” Ezra asked. 

“Do you mind if we drop off Thrawn’s present first?” 

“Where?” Ezra asked, and Kanan grinned. 

“The post office.” 

“Send that tacking thing back by snail mail? Perfect. It’s the right amount of destain.” 

“Thrawn sent a gift?? Luke asked, and Ezra rolled his eyes. 

“Now that the war is over, he wants to make himself seem likable to Hera. But since he stole a family artifact, and Sabine’s art, and shot both of us, she’s not buying into it. It doesn’t matter if they have to work together when she gets off maternity leave. She’s not taking any of his nonsense.” 

“Hera holds a grudge,” Kanan told the royal twins, “and I don’t blame her.” 

“Why are you mailing it from here? Thrawn is out on the Outer Rim?” 

“Because he’s out on the outer rim,” Kanan shrugged, “it’ll take longer for it to make it back to him.”

“Alright,” Luke nodded. His sister elbowed him. 

“You have to meet with the staff officers,” Leia hissed, “I’ll escort these two out.” 

“I’ll come visit you soon,” Luke promised Ezra. They hugged, Ezra, looking suspicously choked up as he pulled away.

“You have to keep that promise,” Ezra said, and he nodded to Kanan before making for the door. Kanan nodded to Leia, who followed his adopted son out.

“Kanan?” 

“I understand that you’re going to be passing judgment on the other Jedi masters?” Kanan started without preamble, and Luke looked confused as he nodded. “Weren’t they pardoned?” 

“As Jedi,” Luke sighed, “but they committed other crimes, and father’s demanded his blood price. Mothma agrees to support my decisions, but Father is leaving the sentencing up to me.”

“Luke,” Kanan sighed, unsure how to press the issue, “you know that they.” 

“Do you expect to me wreck bloody vengeance?” Luke asked, and Kanan sighed. 

“I’m not sure what to expect, but I just want to advocate for them. Even a little bit, but your father is probably right in thinking they aren’t good around children.”

“I can vouch for that,” Luke’s smile was bitter. “I think you should consider his proposal, Master Jedi.” 

“I have to talk to Hera first,” the Jedi squared his shoulders, “you need to come visit us, see the baby. Let Hera fuss over you.”

“I will,” Luke agreed, and Kanan couldn’t help but think that he really did look like a prince. “Once I can get away from the Core.” 

Kanan left the palace with a lot to think about, and very worried. 

#$#$#$#

Yoda hadn’t been at the mercy of anyone in so long; he wasn’t sure how to react as the youngest Skywalker moved through the open door. He nodded to each of the guards, who followed directly behind as the Crown Prince took a seat across from the wizened old Jedi. 

He had seen humans rise to and fall from power, and many of them looked the same. 

Luke Skywalker stood out from the rest. He wore his power and authority humbly and graciously. 

The Jedi gnawed on his gimmer stick, sighing.

“Master Yoda,” Luke nodded gracefully. He was much changed from the awkward teenager that Yoda had known. His temper and bitterness had cooled, and he seemed almost at peace. “How are you doing?” 

“No better, no worse,” Yoda croaked, “come to deliver judgment, young Skywalker?”

“Yes,” Luke said plainly. Yoda pulled on the Force for calm. “I doubt that you’re are particularly sorry for anything that happened.” He held up a hand, and Yoda waited. “You lost everything when the Republic fell. Your order, your family, your Knights, your home, and everything you cared about.”

“No attachment, do I have.” Yoda protested, and Luke shrugged. Yoda’s ears twitched in irritation. 

“I know some of the pain you’ve suffered,” Luke continued, his voice low and understanding. “And everything that has happened since, Master Yoda.”

“Difficult it was, but rebuild, we will.” 

“No you,” Luke shook his head, “we’ve decided to ask someone else to head the Jedi order as we rebuild it.” 

“One of the remaining Jedi, I am,” Yoda exclaimed, “have a part in the rebuilding, I should.” 

“As a consultant, maybe, but the Order has to rebuild for the new galaxy we live in,” Luke’s expression shifted, “and if you aren’t involved in that, there are other projects you can help with.” He didn’t seem to notice Yoda’s thunderstruck expression. “You’re living history, a little bit of a biased one, but you’re living history.” 

“A museum piece I will not be!” Yoda croaked.

“Obviously not,” Luke told him, and he held out a piece of flimsi, “but I think its time you considered retirement.” 

R33e34343434

When his conversation with Yoda ended, Luke hadn’t gone to speak to Obi-Wan. He’d retreated back to his room, taking deep breaths and wavering if he really wanted to talk to him at all. It would be easier to let his father deal with Kenobi, and take the rest of the afternoon off to deal with his rising panic. 

“Luke?” He sighed as Leia let herself into his room. 

“How did you know?” He asked morosely, looking up from the potted plant in his hand and sighing. 

“You don’t like either of those old masters,” Leia told him, “and I have a sense about when my brother is having a meltdown.” 

“I’m not having a meltdown,” he sat the plant back down, and Leia sat beside him on the bed. “I’m just not sure how to talk to Obi-Wan. It’s been over three years since I’ve seen him. I don’t want him to. I just. I want him to understand how I feel. I want him,” Luke flopped back into his blankets, “I don’t know what to say to him, Leia. Father wants me to deal with him, but I’m not sure that I can.” 

“If you need more time, I understand,” Leia patted his knee, “maybe just push it back.”

“I can’t,” propped himself up on his elbows, “we need to.” 

“What?” 

“I need to talk to him,” Luke finally muttered, “he needs to answer some questions.” 

#$#$#4

Obi-Wan wasn’t really expecting Luke to be the one walking through the door of his very small, and very uncomfortable guest room. He didn’t need to have raised Vader to know that he was being deliberately ignored. 

He had expected it to be an aide or a droid when they’d knocked on the door. Obi-Wan was faintly embarrassed to be only half-dressed as the Crown Prince lingered just inside the door. 

“Luke,” he paused, dropping his shirt into his suitcase. “I suppose you’ve come to sentence me further?” 

“I’ve come to talk to you,” Luke told him and stars if he didn’t sound just like Padme. “You’re headed to a farming colony, either way, Master Jedi.” 

“Luke.” Obi-Wan stopped. It had been three years since he’d seen the young man properly. This wasn’t the same boy who had hated him in the rebellion days. This wasn’t the same boy who had manipulated and schemed his way in and out of trouble. Three years was a long time. He brushed away some of the wetness in his eyes. 

He remembered Luke as a crying baby, miserable and unhappy, hardly ever able to stop. He remembered Luke screaming everytime the nursing droid picked him up. Why did he only ever remember Luke being unhappy? 

“Were you ever happy?” He surprised himself with asking the young blond. Luke blinked a few times and tilted his head. 

“Happy with you?” 

“Yes.” 

“No,” the lack of hesitation hurts him more than he wants to admit to. He would rather Luke had paused, but the Crown Prince only shook his head. “I don’t ever remember being happy around you. Why should I have been?” 

“I,” Obi-Wan caught himself, “I raised you.” 

“No, you didn’t,” bitterness flooded his voice, “you didn’t know anything about babies, or me. You tossed me at whichever droid or pilot wasn’t too busy. I don’t remember anyone taking care of me.” 

“Luke.” 

“Do you want to know the first memory of anyone trying to take care of me? The first one where they just cared about me? Just me. Not the Jedi and not the spy. It was when I was sick as a spy when I was Turroo Demoins.” Obi-Wan felt his mouth flop open. Luke continued. “I was down the virus that nearly killed me, and you know what happened. Father, he stayed at my side almost the entire time. He was there when I woke up, and I had no idea what was going on. He was there when I was recovering and couldn’t walk more than a few steps down the hallway. That was the first time someone seemed to care about me. That was the first time I felt a connection with anyone, and it was the man you said would murder me for the fact I wasn’t force sensitive. He didn’t,” Luke added sneeringly. “As you can see.” 

“Luke.” 

“The man you said would murder me was the first person who cared about me.” 

“Of course I care about you, Luke!” Obi-Wan shouted, unable to keep quiet, and horrified at what the blond was saying. “I did care! I do care!” 

“Then why didn’t you show it?” Luke shouted, an Obi-Wan bit his lip. “Why didn’t you care? Like a normal person! Why did you abandon me? Why did you throw me out?” 

“You weren’t force sensitive!” Obi-Wan replied just as he realized that it was the wrong thing to say. Instead of exploding like Obi-Wan expected, Luke’s eyes darkened, and his rage flickered on the edge of Obi-Wan’s perceptions. 

It wasn’t the petulant anger or bitterness he was used to. This was anger, hot and burning anger. It was the sort that made people do reckless things. It burned brighter than a sun. 

“So I wasn’t worth your time?”

“That’s not what I meant!”

“Then what did you mean?” 

“I,” Obi-Wan floundered, “we were at war, Luke. I had to be a Jedi. I had to serve the Republic, and I had to fight the Empire.” He doesn’t know how to articulate or even explain what he was feeling. He wasn’t sure what he was feeling. “I had to go.”

“You had to go,” Luke took a deep breath, looking up at the ceiling, “I understand that. There’s a lot I understand about fighting a war, Obi-Wan. I was there for most of it.” 

“I’m sorry, Luke.” 

The blond gave him a betrayed glare but said nothing. The Force around Luke burned with emotions that he could taste in the back of his throat. 

“I,” Obi-Wan shook his head, “I don’t know, Luke. There’s so much that I should.” He gestured uselessly at his suitcase. “I think I need to pack right now.” 

“I used to wonder why you acted the way you did,” Luke said as Obi-Wan refused to look at him. “I used to think it was my fault too, but it wasn’t.” He turned a little, glancing at the blond through the corner of his eyes. “You’re just stupid.” 

“Luke!” 

“You don’t know anything! You don’t know how people think or work or anything! You think that your lack of feeling is what makes you such a good? It makes you awful. It makes you hurt people, and you don’t even care, because you don’t understand how they got hurt. You can’t even admit when you’re wrong!”

“What was I supposed to do, Luke? It was the middle of a war?” 

“I don’t know!” Luke shouted, “but anything would have been better than nothing. You didn’t even care!” 

“I did care!” Obi-Wan wasn’t sure what he was feeling, but he knew Luke was wrong. “I do care! How do I make you understand?” 

“You never told me you cared,” Luke snapped, his fists were balled up, and there were tears in his eyes. He refused to cry though, and Obi-Wan was struggling to breathe. “You never showed it. You never acted like it. You acted like I was a waste of space. I wasn’t the tool you could use, and you threw me away!”

“I didn’t! I was,” Obi-Wan sagged onto the uncomfortable bed, “I’m sorry, Luke. I’m sorry. I don’t know what to tell you. I don’t know what to say! I do…I do care. I just. You weren’t.” 

“I was the best damn spy the rebellion had!” Luke shouted, “I killed Palpatine and Tarkin! I made the movie a Bridge Away! I was the one who told the rebellion about the Death Star! I was the one who helped bring Vader back to the light! It didn’t matter if I was force sensitive or not! I am Luke Skywalker and all I ever needed to be was me, and you don’t get that!” 

“Luke!” 

“What?”

They both stared at each other, half-hearted understanding moving between them. 

“Someone will be out to evaluate you every couple of months,” Luke said suddenly, “to monitor your progress.” 

“Progress? While your father continues to reign and his crimes are far worse than mine!” 

“Father,” Luke snarled, “will also be punished, and he has already agreed to it.” 

Obi-Wan blinked, “really?” 

“Yes,” Luke took a deep breath, “if you…um. Nevermind.” He left in a rush, leaving the Jedi behind to stare at the door in confusion.

#$#$#

Forgiveness and compassion were the traits of a good person, but Luke wasn’t feeling very compassionate or forgiving. He wanted to take Obi-Wan and kick him repeatedly. He wanted to punch him in the nose. He wanted to make everything stop hurting so much. 

“Luke,” he didn’t turn toward his father, but he leaned gratefully into the hug. 

“I shouted at him. He shouted at me. I don’t think it went very well. I shouldn’t have talked to him.” 

“Perhaps not,” Vader agreed, his set his enormous hand on Luke’s head, and the blond sniffed back a few tears. 

“I don’t even know how I feel, Father. I’m just angry and so hateful. I just want to hate him so much. I don’t even know how I should feel. I just want to,” Luke bit his lip. “I just want to hate him so much. Is that fair? Is it okay for me to hate him? I shouldn’t, I’m supposed to be kind and merciful and I just. I don’t even….”

“Emotions are complex and painful, my son,” Vader rumbled. The emperor held his son close. “Take them slowly, understand them to better understand yourself.”

“As my commanding officer, you were better at showing you cared than Obi-Wan. That’s what’s mind-boggling to me. You didn’t have to be there when I was sick. You didn’t have to take care of me so much, and give me so much stuff. You didn’t even know, and you cared more.”

“You gave me little choice,” Vader said, “you were reckless and foolish, with such a woebegone attitude.” 

“Woebegone attitude?” Luke sat back, somewhat offended. “What?” 

“You were so lost, practically a child.” Vader patted the top of Luke’s head. “It was as if Piett had gifted me with a particularly insolent pet.”

“Pet?” Luke sputtered, “excuse you. I am not a pet.” 

“No,” Vader agreed easily, and he seemed to be amused by Luke’s indignation, “but you called upon my parental instinct even when I was so drawn deeply into depression and a cycle of self-hatred that I hadn’t emerged from until you were at my side. You, if you intended to or not, saved me. You saved the galaxy.” 

“With my sad, woebegone attitude, obviously hoping that it would attract potential parents?” Vader was quiet long enough that Luke rolled his eyes, but he seemed more cheerful, “don’t tell Leia.” 

“She already knows,” Vader watched the traffic below, “it was her discovery. How else do you explain your friendship?” 

“I made her food,” Luke brushed at his eyes, refusing to cry. “No one can resist food.” 

“Perhaps not,” Vader paused, “perhaps you will also make some for me.” 

“You can’t…you looked into surgery options.” 

“It will take a long time to recover,” Vader said, and Luke beamed. “But I will undergo the necessary surgeries.” 

“Father!” Luke wrapped his arms around Vader, “you’ll be free! The last remnants of Palpatine’s evil! You’ll be able to breathe! When you recover, I’ll make you anything you want!”

“I want pancakes,” Vader told him seriously, “and some Alderanni cake.” 

“I think we can manage that,” Luke continued to beam, his worries set aside for another day. “I think it’s time to heal up, father.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are no more pages in my fanfiction folder. This is the end of the story. Anyone else want to pick it up, they're fine by me.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote about 20 more pages of this so if you want to read more of this story just let me know. Said pages include Ezra reuniting with his parents and Obi-Wan's redemption.  
> Happy Birthday, chrissyglikesbooks.


End file.
